Cligue

Snowed In Part 3

It was about a week later and Karen and I were enjoying this new sexual dynamic. I was cleaning up the kitchen that morning when Karen came downstairs wearing a thick black sweater that hung loosely from her chest and concealed her powerful upper body. Her tight white yoga pants, however, showed every contour of her strong lower half. Yoga pants are always form fitting but these were very thin, extremely tight, and made of a sheer material, giving them a wet look. They clung so tightly to her body that I could see that she clearly wasn’t wearing panties – and, am azingly, I could see the outline of her vagina. What surprised me most was the meaty clit between her legs, protruding from her vagina like a small cock. Well, maybe even a medium-sized cock. My eyes fixated on her.. her bulge… She had pulled the yoga pants up high on her waist to make them even tighter around her crotch and I could see her clit standing out: it had to be 2 – 3” in size. 

My heart started beating heavily when she came into the room and my gaze was pulled immediately to the outline of her sex under the sheer white material. We hadn’t had sex in a few days and things had settled into more of our regular routine but this blatant display of her sexuality was intoxicating and new. She was telling me what she wanted. There was something provocatively confusing about her gender bending appearance – part feminine, part masculine, all muscle. The combination of the outline of her large clit, her tight abs, her large breasts, and her thick thigh muscles awoke something in me and I felt my mouth salivate. I inadvertently licked my lips but was silent and cowed with arousal.

For my part, I was dressed in a white skirt and pink t-shirt and felt so small compared to Karen. She had insisted on a more feminine appearance over the past few days and I’d given up any resistance. What had begun as games in the bedroom was now becoming part of our regular routine – I knew better than to wear any of my old clothes. My eyes traced her body, taking in the differences between us: where her legs were thick and powerful, mine were slender and short. My t-shirt sleeve clung around my thin arms and revealed just how soft and weak my arms were. My thin, white arms were like that of a young girl whereas hers were powerful and toned; I was so soft and weak all over. As I looked enviously at her thick clit in her pants, I felt my own dick rub against my panties. 

She saw me staring at her crotch and smiled at me, “I thought you might like that, sissy. I didn’t wear underwear because I wanted to show you my new development.” 

I was still confused and didn’t speak.

“I can tell you about it …” she smiled, “but I can see that you like my bulge.”

I quickly collected myself, “Oh, I … I just…”

She walked up to me and came very close. I could smell the scent of her body… a combination of sweat and sex. She grabbed my hand and brought it down to her crotch. I felt the bump in her pants. It was substantial. It felt… I had to be honest. It felt like a dick and I could actually imagine it as a cock under the lycra material. Her hand was bigger and stronger than mine and she brought it down to her sex. I didn’t resist.

“You feel how big I am?” 

She pressed my hand against the bump in her pants.

My knees nearly buckled. My heart was racing. I was immediately weak with desire, “Yes, Karen,” I whispered.

“I’m bigger than you aren’t I?”

“Yes, Karen.”

“What’s bigger?”

“Your… your clit.

She pressed my hand harder against it.

“Does that feel like a clit to you?”

My heart was pounding.

“It’s so big.”

“What is?”

“Your… your cock.”

“Good girl” and she leaned into me and kissed me firmly on the mouth.

Karen had always had a bit of a protruding clit but she was never like this before. She had somehow gotten bigger and I couldn’t get the image of her body out of my mind: her firm, large tits, her strong biceps, her layered thigh muscles, and that oversized clit in her pants. She walked around the cottage proudly, to show me what she had. She was a strange combination of female and male sexuality and I was intoxicated with desire for her.

Karen moved into the kitchen and sat down to her coffee before she called me over. She looked at me with a playful smile. 

“Well, what do you think baby?”

“It’s… uhhh… it’s surprising.”

“Good surprising or freaky surprising?”

I paused… I wasn’t sure, “Good surprising.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, with her eyebrow arched.

“I’m… well, it’s just… confusing.”

“But I think you like it, even with the confusion.”

I looked down at the table and said, “I think I do.”

“You want to be my girl, don’t you?”

I smiled at her weakly.

“Don’t you?”

“Yes, Karen” I said, softly.

“And girls like their man to have a nice cock, don’t they?”

Again, I almost whispered, “Yes, Karen.”

She put a reassuring hand over mine. “Good, sweetie.”

I could hear her open her legs under the table. “Why don’t you take a closer look?”

I met her eyes but was silent. I could see desire and power in her eyes.

“Go look at my cock, sweetie.”

I just stared at her before she said, in a firmer voice, “Go on, under the table, like a good girl.”

I licked my lips again before sliding out of my chair onto my knees.

Under the table, our new dynamic came into focus. Before, we had been experimenting with gender play, since the event last week where she was chopping wood, but this was something completely new. I was sitting under the table like a servant, like her weak, feminized plaything, and I was getting hard as I was doing it. I took in the scene before me:

Karen’s muscles and developing strength made her seem bigger than me, more powerful than me and I was increasingly feeling like her weak, wallflower, companion. Well, if I felt small standing next to Karen these days, I felt absolutely tiny under the table, like a child. Her legs were massive and, encased in the white yoga panths, I could see the layers of muscle. Each leg looked as big as my small body under the table. I wanted to wrap my arms around her thighs, my legs around her calves, and … my mind wandered

I stared at her legs and could see the diamond of her calves flexing against thin fabric of her yoga pants. They looked so thick and strong and I could see the power of her legs rippling under her pants. I was sweating with desire.

My eyes traced up the white, thin yoga pants, and there it was, a large clit pressing against the sheer material. Masculine. Feminine. Powerful. Sexual.

It had seemed large when Karen was standing across from me but here, under the table, it looked even bigger. I felt tiny: curled at her feet, crouched under the table, her powerful legs on either side of me and her thick clit hovering in front of my face, the only thing between it and me a thin layer of white sheer fabric. 

“Thank my cock, sweetie. Thank it like a good girl thanks her man.”

Karen was taking out gender swapping to whole new heights. What had begun as playful erotic fun was finding new dimensions and I felt the barriers of my identity and structures of my manhood being torn down. Under the table, with my thin pale legs, folded under a skirt, I felt like her girl, her weak dependent girl. I was awash in desire and longed to give in to this new identity she was forcing me into. 

“Thank, you, Karen, for protecting me, for becoming my man.”

“Oh sweetie, you’ve got a lot to learn. You don’t thank with your words, you show me how thankful you are.”

She paused and then continued, “Just ask yourself, what would a small, weak girl do to show her man how much she values him?”

I finally understood what she was asking for and decided to just give in to what she wanted. I looked at the powerful legs on either side of my head, I thought of her strong hand pressing my delicate one into her crotch. I thought of her protecting me from the wolf, her biceps rippling in the sun. I looked at the prominent clit in front of my face.

I put my face right up to the clit that proudly protruded in front of me.

I put my hands on her thighs, feeling the layers of muscle against my weak fingers. Inhaled and then began, “Thank you, Karen for being so strong and powerful.”

I kissed the clit softly with my lips, pressing them against the white sheer material. I could feel its girth under the sheer fabric.  

I spoke in a softer, girlish voice: “Thank you for your muscles.”

I kissed it again.

“Thank you for protecting me.”

I kissed it again and could feel it stir and harden slightly.

I really did feel like a small girl, under the table, worshipping her man’s hardening sex, showing my devotion, my weakness, and surrendering myself, prostrating myself in front of her, all to worship and bolster her power. 

Even softer voice: “Thank you for being more of a man than I could ever be.”

I kissed it harder, letting my lips linger a little more against her clit.

“Thank you for your powerful body.”

I kissed, this time wrapping my lips, slightly against the hood of her clit.

“Thank you for making me your girl.”

I could see her clit thickening under the yoga pants and getting, incredibly, even larger. Was it my imagination or was it like a medium sized dick now? It had to be at least 3”, maybe 4? But that couldn’t be… This had to be an illusion brought on by my subjugated position under the table. My own penis was thickening in my panties and I felt it with one of my hands. Who was bigger… I wasn’t sure. 

I slid my panties down my thighs and looked as my thickening dick stood up at attention in front of me. I had a medium, maybe slightly small, dick, about 5” fully erect. I looked down at it, medium hard and about 3.5” long. I looked up at the clit. Even under the white pants, it looked firm, powerful, and large. I felt… even smaller, like a girl servicing her man. I wanted to take her, in my mouth.

I pressed my face against her sex, and whispered, against her clit, “Thank you… for your big cock.”

I put my hands on her thighs and reached up to the band of her pants. I slowly pulled them down as I continued to kiss her sex. I only stopped to pull her pants down her thick thigs and legs. 

Her lower body was exposed and I took in her power and sexuality. 

Her clit was as big as I had imagined, standing proud and thick in front of me. It was easily 3” long, extended out in front of her vagina. I’d never seen her like this before but my questions, my rational thought gave way to sheer desire. I put my mouth against the hood of her sex and took her in my mouth. Her clit was wet and firm and I ran my tongue along the base. At the same time I wrapped my hand around my own cock and pumped.

I could feel her bucking her hips against my face as I licked and sucked her clitcock like the girl that I was becoming. 

“Mmmmmm” I heard her shout with a deep guttural moan.

I opened my mouth to say, “You’re so big… I love your coc—” but before I could finish Karen pushed a hand under the table, forced my head back to her sex, jammed her clit back into my mouth and shouted, “SUCK.” 

I obeyed, taking her clitcock into my mouth and sucking it. It felt bigger than it had looked. I ran my tongue along it and went back and forth feeling it thicken in my mouth. 

As I was sucking her I had an image of the two of us, her thick, muscled thighs and calves bursting with strength on either side of my head. Her firm abs and large tits above me. My soft, supine body beneath the table worshipping her. Her power, my weakness, my willing submission, her changing body… I loved it all.

As if she could read my thoughts she moaned above me, saying “You’re my girl, my slut… worship my cock.”

This brought me over the edge and I felt my cock go rock hard. I pulled it intensely and, at the same time, I felt her clit thicken in my mouth and suddenly my mouth filled with her cum. She came with such force and intensity and she ground my face into her pussy. Her ejaculate was light but it was cum all the same. I lapped it up and swallowed it eagerly. I fucked my own hand, reveling in the sensation of pure submission underneath the table, between her thighs. I came furiously in a puddle on the floor

Finally we exhaled and I rolled away from her and came out from under the table.

She looked at me with a smile, perspiration coming down her face. I was struck again by her new vitality and the strength evident in her neck and shoulders: she looked stronger, more powerful.

“That was absolutely amazing. Thank you.”

I smiled back, “You’re welcome. It was amazing for me too.”

I went to the bathroom to get cleaned up and then returned to the kitchen and sat down at the table. We sat there for a second before I spoke.

“I have to ask you… you seem… well, bigger.”

She reached into her purse, and pulled a bag of pills out of her bag.

“This may have something to do with it,” she said.

I picked them up and saw the name on the pill container, “Regenahealth.” 

“Honey, what are these?” I asked.

“They’re a women’s vitamin mixed with a compressed superfood. I ordered it online to help me with my workouts. I’ve had these for some time but I wasn’t sure about taking them. To be honest, they help develop musculature but their can also be side effects.”

“What kind?”

“Well,” she said with a coy smile, “they clearly can lead to a swollen clit. But the benefits are amazing. I mean just look at this.”

She pulled her arm out of her sweater and flexed her bicep. It was positively huge – she was getting bigger by the day with more definition in her muscles. Her flexed bicep looked as wide as my waist. Despite the fact that I’d just cum so heavily, I felt my dick stir again as I looked at her arm in awe. 

I collected my thoughts: “Is it is a steroid?”

“No, no… a supplement. Just google it. Why don’t you look it up online and read about the side effects in the forums?”

I grabbed my phone, and looked up the drug and quickly found lots of discussions about the effects:

RH for all the women. My boyfriend loves my big…

I’ve been on Regenahealth for a week and I feel swelling in…

Regenahealth makes me feel younger, stronger but also… 

RH is amazing! I don’t mind how big I’ve gotten…

My brow was furrowed as I read the post titles. This seemed strange. I clicked on the first post.

I’ve been on RH for about a week now and the results are amazing. Yes, I feel fitter, more confident, and am clearly gaining muscle more effectively. Workouts are not just easier, they’re better. This drug is amazing. And yes, ladies, I’ve suddenly gotten bigger ‘down there’. My question is, when does that stop?

I went back and clicked on another post.

Loving it so far but my boyfriend is a little freaked out. He’s never been the biggest guy but that never bothered me but now I think I’m about as big as him. I wonder what he’d do if I asked him to measure to compare? Has anyone dealt with this?

And I clicked another.

This drug is absolutely amazing. I think it’s going to change how men and women live together! My husband was amazed by my biceps and my abs but when I asked him to suck my clit, first he was reluctant but now he loves it as much as I do. Daily blowjobs! Thank you RH!!

As I read through the forum I saw that it was full of similar posts from women sharing their experiences with Regenahealth, and the common thread was their increased musculature and their clits growing. Some were thrilled with the changes, while others were unsure how to navigate their new reality with their partners. I couldn’t believe what I was reading, but the evidence was right in front of me. Karen’s body was changing and it seemed like the pill was supercharging her workouts.

The post continued, “It’s like having a small dick of my own, but the best part is watching him beg for it. He’s never been so obedient, so eager to please. And when I sit on his face, oh god, he just loves it. And I love it too!”

Another user wrote, "My clit has grown so much, I can't even wear my usual panties anymore. I'm loving the extra attention it gets from my husband. I remember his face the first time he noticed. Then I saw that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of my crotch. Now he can’t keep his hands or tongue off of it. And the best part is that it's so sensitive now that even the slightest touch sends waves of pleasure through my body."

I swiped through the posts, each one more shocking than the last.

One woman had posted a side-by-side comparison of her clit and her husband's dick. The clit was slightly bigger that his dick. The picture was accompanied by a caption: "Looks like I wear the pants in our family now” The comments below were a mix of amazement and envy, with many other users asking for advice on how to handle the newfound size.

"How do you even fit it in your pants?" one user asked.

"I've started wearing boxer briefs," she replied. "They're more comfortable and give me the support I need."

Another woman chimed in, sharing her own experience: "I stopped wearing underwear altogether. I want my husband to see my size.”

The conversation grew more and more explicit, with women sharing pictures and videos of their new, oversized clits and the reactions of their partners. Some talked about the thrill of watching their men's expressions when they realized their wives had surpassed them in size, others spoke about the power dynamic that shifted in their relationships.

One post in particular caught my eye. It was a before and after picture of a woman's body. The 'before' showed a fit, toned woman with a normal-sized clit. The 'after' was a far more muscular woman with a clit that hung down from her vagina. The caption read, “Form a line boys.”

Another user shared a particularly steamy encounter with her husband. "I had him measure us side by side," she wrote. "His jaw dropped when he realized mine was bigger. Good thing that it dropped so much because I jammed my girlcock deep down his throat. He was so turned on, he sucked me right there."

The more I read, the more I felt my own desire growing. The idea of Karen having a cock, even if it was just her clit, was so taboo and yet so incredibly arousing. It was like nothing we'd ever experienced before. Our roles in the bedroom had shifted so dramatically in just one week. And as I sat there, her 'cock' still wet from my mouth, I couldn't help but feel a mix of fear and excitement for what was to come. The forum was a testament to the power of Regenahealth, and I knew that we were only just beginning to explore its limits.

When I looked up, I realized Karen had moved closer to me and was reading the posts over my shoulder. She had a knowing smile on her face, watching as my eyes widened with each new revelation.

"What do you think, sweetie?" she asked, her voice thick with amusement.

I swallowed hard, trying to compose myself. "I... I don't know what to think."

"Does it turn you on?" she pressed, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

I didn't want to admit it, but the truth was undeniable. "Yeah, it does," I murmured, feeling a flush creep up my neck.

Her smile grew wider. "I knew it would. I can feel it." She reached down and touched the bulge in my panties, giving it a squeeze. "You like being with a woman who's more of a man than you are."

It was a statement, not a question, and I couldn't bring myself to argue. I nodded, my cheeks burning.

"Good," she said, leaning in to kiss me. "Because I like it too."

Her kiss was firm and possessive, and I could taste a hint of herself on her lips. I felt my cock throb in response.

“But what about other side effects? Also,” I looked down at her crotch, “how big will it get?”

“There aren’t other side effects. The drug has been tested and its safe. As for how big I will get… let me ask you, how big do you want me to get?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at me with a challenging expression.

“I-- I’m not sure.”

“Is it that you’re scared I’ll get too big,” she smiled, “or do you hope I’ll get really big? So big that you can brag to the other boys about how big your wife’s clit is? How she rips you when she fucks you?”

Amazingly my dick was stirring in my pants at her line of questioning and she could sense my arousal.

“My god! You slut! You really want me to get huge, don’t you?”

“No, no… it’s just.”

“I can see it on your face. You’re practically salivating at the idea.” She placed a possessive arm on my shoulder before whispering, “Well, we’ll see. If you’re a really good girl, maybe I’ll grow even bigger for you.”

She gave me a gentle peck on the cheek.

“But for now, you need to clean up this mess” and with that she walked out of the kitchen.

I looked down at the cum that had spilled from my cock onto the kitchen floor. I felt a strange mix of humiliation and excitement. I had never been so turned on in my life and Karen knew it. I got a towel and knelt down, wiping up the evidence of our encounter. As I did so, I couldn’t help but think about how much had changed in just a week. The thought of her growing even more, becoming more powerful, more masculine, was terrifying but also incredibly exciting.

I felt a sense of loss, a part of me was grieving my own manhood as I became more and more feminine. I didn’t know if I was losing myself to Karen’s growing power or if I was being reborn as something new, something that was entirely shaped by her. But as I cleaned up, I realized that I liked it. I liked being her little slut, her obedient girl. It was a thrill to serve her, to make her cum, to watch her grow more powerful with every passing day. I had to acknowledge that this experience spoke to some aspect of my personality. It was part of who I was.

Karen spent the day working in her office while I was working around the house. It was close to dinner when she asked me to come into the bedroom. I shouted, “Sure,” and moved to where she was.

I was surprised to find Karen standing naked in the middle of the bedroom with weights on either side of her. 

“Come here please” she said, firmly. 

I walked towards her as I took in her incredible body. Her abs were tight and defined, her shoulders were strong and round and I could see the bulk of her arms even in their unflexed state. Her legs were thick and strong and her clit stood proudly in front of her body like a female cock. Her breasts were always large and they looked even larger against her tight body. 

Once again I was experiencing that familiar feeling of being dwarfed and mastered by her. In my skirt and tight pink t-shirt I felt weak and feminine. She stood before me nude and powerful, an amazon in front of her weak feminized male. I could see the desire in her eyes. 

“I want you to witness my strength,” she said and with that she squatted down and picked up two of the barbells on either side of her. I saw that they were 40lbs and they looked extremely heavy. I knew I couldn’t have lifted them. She picked them both up with ease, stood up, and began to curl them.

Her muscles popped from her body almost immediately and she curled the weights quickly and intensely. Her biceps popped out of her arm and a large vein running from her bicep down her forearm was immediately noticeable. The muscles in her shoulders and neck became pronounced and her abs flexed with each curl. She curled them 10 times, then 20, then 30. She paused, and then began to raise them over her head.

I could see a sheen of sweat forming across her body and it gave her muscles a sleek, liquid look. Her body was pumped, pronounced veins ran along her bicep and forearm, muscles standing strong on her legs, her arms, her abs, and I was almost hypnotized as I took in the site of her statuesque, powerful being. She maintained eye contact with me the entire time. My dick was hardening in my panties as I watched her powerful body expand with muscular strength. 

Finally, she stopped, and placed the barbells on the ground with a thud. She looked at me before asking, “Can you lift them?”

“You know I can’t.”

“Try.”

I began to kneel down to pick them up before she said, “Wait. First disrobe. I want you nude.”

I paused for a second and then obeyed her command. I pulled the pink shirt over my head, revealing my thin, pale torso. I unbuttoned the skirt and stepped out of it. Finally, I slid the pink panties down my legs. Karen smiled at the sight of my slightly hardened cock hanging in front of me.

“You like to see me workout, don’t you?”

“Of course, Karen. You’re so amazing.”

She smiled even wider. 

“I like to see you naked too.” She came near me and cupped one of my ass cheeks in her strong, warm hand. She gave it a powerful squeeze.

“I love how small you are, how weak.” I felt so small next to her. I could smell the perspiration from her workout and my body must have been responding to her pheromones because my desire was building. My nipples hardened on my chest.

“Come on now, sweetie. Let’s see you lift them.” 

I knelt and tried to raise the barbells. They wouldn’t budge.

“Come on. There’s a man buried somewhere in there. Can you do it?” she said, with a taunt.

I was a ridiculous sight, my thin girlish arms straining to lift the barbells. I couldn’t shift them.

“What if you use two hands?”

I tried again. I put both hands on one barbell, feeling like a child trying to lift weights designed for an adult. I strained, pulled, rocked the barbells and managed to make them roll slightly, but they didn’t leave the ground. 

I sank from my squatting position to my knees and tried again, my thin arms straining to move the weight. I failed before looking up at her again.

Standing above me, she was an image of muscular strength and I could see the perspiration dripping down her navel towards her crotch. Her clit hung in front of me like a cock and I looked up at her with wide, doting eyes. 

“Please, Karen… I can’t.”

She looked down at me with a mix of pity and sympathy. “You’re so weak my flower, my little pussy. Were you ever a man, sweetie? Or were you always pretending?”

I was silent, my lip quivered and I felt a mix of shame and arousal, kneeling at her feet.

“It must have been so hard for you… pretending all those years. You were never a man. You’re really a girl inside, aren’t you?”

“Yes…”

“Tell me, then sweetie.”

I responded softly, “I’m a girl.”

She smiled and said, “Stand up.”

I stood up in front of her, taking in the sheen of sweat on her abs, her nipples erect with desire, the fullness of her breasts, standing firmly against her chest, smoothly curving into the strong pectoral muscles, her thick, toned arms, her powerful legs, and of course, her growing clit.

“Who’s girl are you?”

I spoke in a soft, girlish voice, “Yours, Karen… I’m your girl.”

I could feel my dick hardening as I said it. It felt right. It felt wrong.

She reached out and grabbed an ass cheek in her hands and pulled me into her body. My form was soft, small and yielding and I felt my weakness against her hard, thick body. My dick pressed against her clit. I could feel her thickness. 

“Do you like to feel my dick against your clit, sweetie?”

I whispered, “Yes, Karen.”

“Do you like to feel how strong I am? To know my muscles are here to protect you so long as you worship them?”

“Yes, Karen.”

I could see the animal lust in her eyes and asked her, “Do you like me to be soft and weak for you Karen?”

She narrowed her eyes again and said, “I don’t know if it’s the medication, our new dynamic, or a combination of both but,” she licked her lips, “I love seeing you this way. So weak. Looking to me to take control. I woke up in bed this morning and thought about having my way with you, fucking you like a girl, of conquering you…” I could see her chest rising and falling quickly… “It turns me on so much.” She continued, “Tell me what you feel then little pussy.”

It came out of me like a flood, a confession where I put into words what, up to now, I had just been feeling, “I want the same thing, Karen.”

“I know you’re so much stronger than me, so much more of a man than me. I’m your girl, Karen, your sweet, yielding pussy. Whatever you tell me to do, I’ll do it, because I worship your power. I want to serve you Master Karen, I want to worship your muscles, your cock, and show you how weak and soft I am for you. I love how you’ve turned me from a weak man into your girl, shown me I have a clit and a pussy, and I want you to fuck me and make me your girl forever.”

I could see the sex boiling in her as I spoke and she grabbed me in her powerful arms and threw me, face first, onto the bed. She climbed on top of me, her thick, strong clit pressing against my ass. 

She grabbed my wrists and held them above my head, her powerful body dominating me. Her thighs pushed my legs apart, spreading my ass cheeks, and she began to grind into me, her clit thick and hard. She opened me like a flower and I couldn’t have resisted if I’d wanted to. Her powerful hands encircled my wrists and pulled me open and I awaited her like a willing vessel for whatever she gave me. 

The feeling was intense, and it was all I could do not to scream. She was so big, so powerful, so overwhelming. I could feel every inch of her clit pressing into me, demanding submission.

“Say it again, sweetie. Tell me who’s girl you are.”

“I’m your girl, Karen. I’m your girl, your little pussy to do with as you wish. I want you to fuck me and make me your girl forever. Make me your slut, your little cum dumpster, your obedient fuck toy. It’s what I’m made for. To obey you, to take it.”

“Good girl,” she murmured, her voice thick with lust.

Her grip tightened on my wrists and she used her legs to force my legs open further and up into the air. She was fucking me like I was a girl, and she began to grind her clit against my asshole. 

I could feel it, the engorged clit pressing against my opening, making me feel so small, so used, so utterly feminine. The friction was intense and I could feel myself getting more turned on with each thrust.

“I’m going to breed you, sissy. You want to be my girl? You’re going to get my seed in your pussy and bear my children. You’re going to be my little breeding cow, aren’t you?”

I moaned and nodded, my body responding to her words, my cock was rock hard. The idea of her impregnating me, making me carry her child, was so wrong and yet so incredibly arousing.

“Say it. Say you want me to breed you, to fill your pussy with my cum,” she demanded, her voice harsher now.

“Yes, Karen, breed me. Impregnate me like the girl I am. Make me your bitch. Make me your breeding slut. Fill me with your cum, please!”

With a feral growl, she slammed into me. I could feel her thick, muscular legs pressed against my weak body, opening me up, and then it actually happened – the tip of her clit slid into my ass and she entered me -- her strong hands holding me down, her body moving with a powerful rhythm that made the bed shake. 

Her strong legs were thrusting and her crotch was bucking against my anus and somehow her clit, engorged and firm, was fucking me like a cock. I could feel her getting closer, her movements becoming more urgent. I could feel her sliding in and out of me, her female cock lubricated and fucking me. It was a deep pleasure and humiliation that took away my words. I just moaned: the deep and guttural sound of someone being fucked. 

“I’m fucking you now baby.” She said with an animal sexuality as she fucked me.

“This is how a man fucks his girl.”

“Now how you ever fucked me.” With each word she thrusted, slamming her growing clit into my willing hole. 

Her thrusts sped up and I could actually feel her clit expand slightly in my ass. I knew she was going to cum soon. The thought of her seed filling me up, making me complete, was too much to bear and I screamed out my own orgasm, my body spasming with pleasure as she continued to fuck me, her own climax building.

“Fuckk mmeeeeee pleeeease.” I screamed.

And when she finally came, her clit pulsing against my ass, I felt a strange mix of euphoria and submission. Her power overwhelmed me, and I wanted it. I felt the cum leak out of her and enter my body and I screamed, “Breed meeeee master” as we came in unison.

Babysitter Preview

My hands were shaking with nervous desire and anticipation as I slid the tights up my legs. I did it slowly, enjoying the feeling of the nylon against my thin, smooth legs. Looking down at my body, I looked positively feminine and not at all like a boy being forced to cosplay as a girl.

From outside the door Carey called out, "Hurry up in there." I stood up and stepped into the small red boots that she brought me that morning. My heart was racing and I felt flustered, hot, scared, but also, sexy. This younger woman had ensnared me a in a net of feminine control and I was all too happy to fall further under her spell. These thoughts crossed my mind as I flattened the skirt against my thin torso, adjusted the red bow on my chest, ensured my blonde wig was in its proper place and, finally, stepped to the door. I opened it.

She looked at me with, surprise, shock, and then a great smile. "Wow... Serena... you look..." She didn't finish her sentence but her expression told me everything. For her part, she was an image of female strength and power. The Chun Li outfit clung to her body and highlighted the thickness of her arms and the power in her thighs. She pulled me towards her so that I was looking straight into her chest. The only remnant of my boyhood stirred in my panties when I felt the closeness of her powerful body and the heat of her presence, but it was subdued, ensconced in the panties she had made me wear.

She looked down at me possessively and with an expression of desire and ownership. I felt fully secure in her presence, in the erotic glow of her power. How could I be that I was two years older than this towering young woman. She spoke quietly but with clear desire in her voice, "Serena, you make a beautiful girl."

Learning Curves 4

I was cooking dinner that night when Kara came into the kitchen. I was wearing the same skirt as yesterday and was preparing the large salad that Kate had recommended I eat. Kara came in and said, “Wow, that looks good.”

“Thanks! It was one of the things we talked about cooking today in class.”

Kara smiled and then handed me a bag, “Do you mind cooking this for me too?”

I opened the back and found a fairly large steak.

I was confused and looked at it and then her, “I thought we were… on vegetarian diets?”

She smiled, “You might be, Mike. But we’re doing intense work in those classes so I need lots of protein. I’ll have it medium please.” And with that she turned away and walked out. I noticed, as she walked away in her jeans and t-shirt, that she had a new bulkiness to her. She already had muscle but was filling out in new ways and seemed even bigger than just a week ago.

I was surprised to learn that Kara was eating steak while I was on a diet of nuts, legumes, vegetables and fruits. I had to admit that I’d been feeling the effects of my lighter diet – where she looked bigger, I was slimming and I felt a little more alert and like I had more energy but I also felt, well, hungry. I will admit that my stomach growled a little looking at the steak but I had Kate’s instructions in my mind and I wanted to impress my new teacher by sticking to the regime. I did as I was told and cooked the steak.

When we sat down to eat, Kara sank into her chair at the table and her new size was evident. I had, of course, noticed her size before but now her shoulders were rounder and her arms had pronounced veins where her muscles were developing. Her collarbone looked pronounced and her neck had veins too – she was changing into someone even stronger than before. She still had her feminine curves but she looked firm and thick, much stronger than me.

She must have sensed me appraising her growing muscles as she caught my eye and then talked about how in her physical class they had engaged in lots of weight lifting so that’s why she needed steaks. I was about to say that we did the same thing but she explained that they were bench pressing upwards of half their body weight. I was stunned – it hadn’t quite struck me that the girls in the class were doing a different workout regime than the boys but now it was all becoming clear.

“I guess I assumed that we were all doing the same kind of exercise.”

Kara explained, “No, that’s not the point. It’s about enabling women to attain new levels of strength while men see the value of their feminine side.”

“So… it’s like the boys are being feminized while the girls are getting stronger?”

Kara smiled, “Are you just realizing this now? What did you think the class was about?”

I thought for a second, “Well about equity and making everyone the same.”

“You need to do your readings more carefully. Equity isn’t about making everyone the same, it’s about redressing past wrongs and giving opportunity where there hasn’t been opportunity before. Professor Stanton believes that women need muscle, strength, and self-confidence in order to have opportunities. Likewise, she believes that men need to be smaller, weaker, and more obedient.”

I was watching her eat her steak and salad as she explained this as I ate my own portion of salad. “I didn’t sign up for that! I don’t want to be smaller.”

Kara looked at me carefully, “Do we need to pretend, Michelle? This is an opportunity for you to live out some of your fantasies, to be in a class that preaches the very thing that is your secret fantasy.”

“Fantasy is one thing… but come on. Kara. This is a bit much. I think I’m going to drop the class.”

She put down her knife and fork and stared at me before speaking forcefully and deeply: “No, you’re staying in the class.”

Her voice was so authoritative and convincing, I felt my dick move in response to her command.

“Come on Kara…” I said weakly.

“Look at me.”

I looked up from the plate and met her gaze. Her power was evident and I felt a yearning desire to obey.

“Michelle, have I steered you wrong up to this point?”

She waited for me to reply. “No.”

“And haven’t I guided you properly over the past few weeks?”

“Yes.”

“Michelle, do you respect my authority?”

Her eyes were bearing down on me. My resistance was melted and I just wanted to succumb to her will, do do anything she asked.

I paused before saying, “Yes…”

“Then you’ll do as I say?”

“Yes…”

“Then you’ll stay in the class. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Kara.”

“Good, Michelle. Now come over here.”

I obeyed her command and walked over to her and stood alongside her. She cut another piece of meat while I stood there, ate it, and then pulled me to her. I didn’t resist, not that I could’ve anyways, but simply allowed myself to be pulled onto her lap. She then positioned my head so that it was resting against her neck. I felt like a child in her embrace.

She was wearing her short shorts and I was in my skirt. I could feel the muscles in her legs and the strength of her torso. Her body radiated a kind of heat and her thighs were like plates of muscle. My legs were soft and thin compared to hers and my waist was significantly smaller. I felt like a tiny, feminized doll sitting in her embrace. Her breast pressed into my side and the combination of muscle and female sexuality was intense and overwhelming. Somewhere in my mind I remembered that Kara had once been the girl next door and now here I was being held in her arms. I had no choice but to yield to her power.

“Do you see why you should obey me, Michelle?”

“Yes, Kara” I whispered heavily.

She looked down at me as she held me in her arms. I felt like her small girlfriend, slim and weak in her arms. I could feel her strength on either side of me. I was surrounded, cowed, and controlled by her strength and it felt so right.

“Michelle, I don’t want to have to convince you every step of the way. I want to you to embrace this new role, this new version of you as submissive, feminine, and obedient.”

I was breathing heavily and was so aroused in this position. I looked up at her: the combination of her dominance, her muscles, her sexuality. It was too much.

“Yes…”

She stood up, cradling me in her arms as she did so. She held me so easily, I was so light to her, and she moved across the kitchen.

“Good, Michelle. Now, can you admit that Kara knows best, that Kara is stronger and more in control and that you agree to obey her from now on.

“Yes, Kara. You know best. You’re stronger. You’re in control.”

“Kara knows best, doesn’t she Michelle?”

My cock was rock hard in my panties and I’m sure Kara could feel it. Her words pressed the buttons of my fantasy. This felt both so wrong and deeply right: I could feel the contrast between us, her powerful, muscular body and my weak, feminine, slender figure.

“Yes, Kara. You know best.”

“And you’ll do what I say?”

I looked up into her commanding eyes and melted. “Yes, Kara.” My dick was rock solid and I’m sure she must have noticed. My heart was racing and my face was red with desire.

She smiled, holding me in her arms. “Tell me,” she said.

“Kara, You are in control. I obey you and do what you say. You’re so powerful and strong and I’m such a weak girl in your arms.”

“I know sweetie,” she said. She smiled and looked down at me and I wondered if she was going to kiss me. I looked into her eyes with a yearning desire, a desire to be fucked. I would have done anything she wanted then. My desire was boiling and I would do anything to please her.

She did kiss me, but only on my forehead and I was left yearning, yearning for her to take me. Instead she put me down in the kitchen, placing me on my feet.

“I’m glad we got that sorted out. Now I don’t want you fighting me every step of the way. We agreed that I know what’s best, so when I make decisions for you, I expect you to agree. OK?”

“Y—yes, Kara.” I was lost in lust and found that I had to steady myself against the oven to avoid falling down.

My head was spinning and my mind was lost as I was pulled in multiple directions at the same time. I looked at her again with yearning eyes: even in the few days of being in the class, she’d already begun to exude a new level of strength. Her rounded shoulders appeared more firm, I could see definitive calve muscles and the veins in her neck were more pronounced. She looked rock solid and I wanted to sink to my knees and worship her strength with my lips. I wanted to get softer, weaker, smaller, if only to show her how much bigger, more powerful, and dominant she was.

But there was also something more significant even if it was less apparent. It may have been the class, the experience of our living together, her regime of strength building and my regime of stretching and learning to be agreeable – but there was a new dynamic in our lives, a dynamic of her dominance and my obedience.

This 19 year old girl was treating me like a child, holding me in her arms and commanding me, controlling my life. She had completely taken over my capacity for decision making and, if I was honest, I loved it. She was becoming my goddess, entering my mind, becoming the voice of control, authority, and reason that I knelt before in my psyche, my desire, my dreams.

She interrupted my inner monologue with an abrupt, “Good. Now, I’m going to take your credit card and order you more skirts and tops. You can’t keep wearing that same skirt everyday.”

I was about to protest before I looked into her eyes, saw her determination, and said, “Yes, of course, Kara.”

She smiled and turned away. I was still so turned on that I quietly went into the bathroom and pulled my rock hard dick out of my skirt. I had been on the edge of orgasm so many times today, and felt completely ensnared in a web of lust that I had to masturbate. I ran the tap so as to hide any noise, but I was sure Kara knew what I was doing.

I came in less than 30 seconds in a heavy, hot orgasm as my mind was thinking about her muscles, her power, her dominance. How I yearned to worship her, to have her touch me. I came to a vision of myself in lingerie, in her arms, her looking up, her rock solid abs shining with sweat, her firm, perky breasts, her thick arms. I came in waves and quietly whimpered like a girl.

The next morning I got up and went back to my morning class with Kara. We walked together and had a nice conversation. She casually mentioned that she had bought me a series of skirts, androgynous tops, yoga pants, and girls jeans. I remembered the night before so just said, “Sounds good.”

When we arrived at the class we said bye and I got changed and went into Kate’s class. I caught a glimpse of Professor Stanton leading the women to their workout and she was dressed in tight black biker shorts and a cut off white t-shirt that amplified her muscles. She was ripped: her legs and arms looked like a crossfit athlete, layered with muscles. She had on a red sports bra under the shirt but I could see her two breasts, and thick nipples, pointing out of the front of her t-shirt. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one whose eyes lingered over her amazonian presence as she moved across the room. If Kara was becoming something new it was clear that it was some version of Professor Stanton: commanding, powerful, authoritative.

Where Professor Stanton was stern and curt, Kate was gentle and welcoming to the boys. She ran a session similar to the first except we spent the majority of the time working on our flexibility and doing back bridges. She was warm and encouraging and while there was a lot of stumbling, and difficulty, but eventually I started to loosen up and I was amazed how, after just a few sessions, how wide I could open my legs and how flexible I was feeling.

Kate also gave a lengthy explanation of the kind of transformation that we’d be experiencing over the course of the semester and explained the justification for these transformations.

“As you’re learning from the readings and the Professor’s lectures, part of this class is about building equitable relationships. The next step in the class involves being partnered with a group of women, supporting them, and learning from their experience.”

At the end of the session I was feeling quite loose and a little bit tired but good. We continued like this for the next few sessions and within about ten days my flexibility was amazing – I could do a full splits, … I wasn’t building up strength but I had an ability to open up my body in ways I previously never could. In a weird way it was starting to feel normal to wear these pink workout one piece outfits, to stretch our bodies out along the canvas of the mats and to contort our legs and backs into new positions.

It was at the end of the session that we visited the women’s training and there was a strange dynamic as we boys left our workout space, walked through the changerooms, and entered the women’s gym.

It had become clear to all of us that while we had been spending the time becoming more flexible, the women had been engaged in serious strength training and the results were already showing. There were ten of us guys and as we entered the gym, we were all collectively appraised by the women and intimidated by the clanging of weights and the strength that was on display. They hadn’t really seen us before in our one pieces and the assignment of gender roles was obvious. The women were all shapes and heights but it was clear that they were developing strength. This was only our third week but I could see that the women’s shoulders were rounding, their backs were getting stronger and there was noticeable definition in their arms. The women who were already in good shape were now starting to look positively muscular and intimidating. They looked comfortable amongst the weights whereas I felt like a lamb among wolves as I appraised their biceps, their strong legs, and the sweat dripping off their bodies. My slender legs were in such contrast to their powerful bodies and I felt weak and small.

As I approached the 'D' group, a woman named Stacy looked me over with a critical eye, taking in my slender frame and the way my pink workout leotard clung to my body. She stepped forward, her large breasts bouncing slightly with the movement, and placed a firm hand on my shoulder. "You're with us," she said, her voice a mix of challenge and authority. It was clear that she was the leader of this group.

Stacy was taller than me by about an inch and her muscles were tight and strong: her biceps bulged beneath her short sleeves and her legs looked like they could crush a watermelon. She wore her blonde hair in a messy ponytail that swished as she moved and she was an erotic combination of feminine strength.

"Let's get started, shall we?" she said, her voice a purr that sent a shiver down my spine. She didn't ask, she commanded, and I found myself eager to please her. She began telling me how to assist the women with their exercises. It was my job to hold their ankles, to make sure they didn't lose balance, to be at their service as they worked out.  And as I watched Stacy bark orders and show off her newfound strength, I felt a strange sense of excitement and submission wash over me.

Her breasts pressed against me as she came up behind me and demonstrated the correct way to hold another girl’s leg. I felt her large breasts pressing into my back along with her taut muscles: she was so much stronger than I ever imagined a girl could be, and it was intoxicating.

"Now, hold it right there," she snapped, her voice firm and unyielding. "You're going to help me with this, okay?"

“Sure.”

She pulled her body tighter to me and I felt squeezed by her.

“When I ask you something, you say, Yes, Stacy.”

"Y-yes, Stacy," I replied weakly.

She pulled away and, with a smirk,

With a smirk, she bent over, placing her hands on the mat in front of her and sticking her ass up in the air. "Hold my ankles," she said, her voice a demand.

I obeyed, gripping onto her powerful legs as she began to stretch. Her muscles bulged and she groaned with satisfaction as she pushed herself deeper into the pose. I was in awe of her, of her strength, her confidence, her beauty.

As the class continued, Stacy made sure to include me in all her activities, treating me like one of her own. She had me fetch water bottles, hand her towels, and wipe down the equipment when she was done with it. She had clearly taken charge of the group and was instructing me to help the other girls in their exercises. I could feel the other women watching us, their eyes appraising and amused by our dynamic.

At the end of the session, Stacy put her hand on my shoulder again and whispered into my ear, “I want you to come by my dorm later this week, say Thursday.”

I felt my dick move as I envisioned having sex with this dynamic and dominant young woman.

She must have guessed my thoughts because she looked at me and laughed a little, “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetie. You couldn’t handle me. I’d break you in half. No, I just want you to come over to clean my apartment.”

She gripped my upper arm with her hand and squeezed. “What do you say?”

“Yes, yes, Stacy.”

“Good boy” she said and walked away.

I looked up and noticed that Kara was watching because she walked over to the weights, made eye contact with Stacy and then came up to me. Stacy looked at her with a grin and then walked away.

Kara led me out of the gym and into the changing room, her hand on the small of my back, guiding me. The other women watched us go, some with smirks, others with a look of curiosity. I was still dressed in my pink leotard, feeling more vulnerable than ever. I went into the change room and changed into my ‘boy’ clothes, unable to shake the erotic charge I felt when I was in Stacy’s grasp.

Later that night I was home doing homework and Kara came into my room. We were both dressed casually – I was in one of the short skirts and a blouse that Kara had picked out and insisted I wear around the house. Kara was in black jeans and a tank top and I could see just how much her shoulder muscles and biceps had grown. She looked like a crossfit athlete, with clear muscular definition across her upper body. The experience of our previous encounter immediately heightened my arousal.

This class was changing everything about our lives, turning her into an amazonian young woman and turning me into a submissive, weak young man. Part of my brain felt that this was just temporary but another part of me knew I loved being surrounded by these powerful women than I never wanted it to end. I felt a yearning desire to submit to their bodies, their strength, their power. I looked up at Kara with the kind of pouting look Kate had talked to us about. Open your eyes wide like you might cry, stick out your lower lip just a bit and silently stare – all to communicate your submission. According to Kate this was part of signaling to women that you didn’t pose a threat.

“Michelle, I wanted to talk to you about what happened today.”

“Sure, what part?”

“Well, about Stacy.”

“OK. What about her?”

“Well, I think you should steer clear of her. She’s pretty manipulative and I don’t think she has your best interests in mind.”

Should I tell Kara about what Stacy had said to me at the end of class? I wasn’t sure.

“Well, she seems OK. And, to be honest, I kind of like the attention.”

Kara's eyes narrowed. "It's not about what you liked, it's about what's best for you. You need to focus on your schoolwork and not get distracted by a girl like that."

I paused, surprised at Kara’s aggression concerning this. I started to wonder if she was a little jealous?

“But, she might not be so bad. Maybe she’s OK.”

"Michelle," she began, her voice firm but gentle, "I need you to understand something."

“Stacy is bad news. Keep away from her.”

I was silent, looking up at her, my eyes wide and my face mimicking the submissive, docile look I had been taught.

"In fact, you're not allowed to date anyone."

I was confused and panicked and I could feel my heart sink. "What? Why?"

"Because I don't want anything to distract you from your growth. You’ve already shown that you can’t handle distractions and you’re doing so well. I need to ensure that you keep on track.”

Play submission was one thing but this was something completely different – this woman, this girl, was threatening to control who I was dating!?!

“But, Kara…” I struggled to find the words that would communicate any sense of assertion within myself, “but part of going to college to meet people.”

She looked down at me, “Yes, but I’ll decide if you’re meeting someone who’s right for you or not. Think of me as your protector in this regard.”

Still… this wasn’t right. I continued my argument: “But, what about, a girlfriend? Or something?”

She smiled, “Oh, honey. Do you think you’re going to find a girlfriend at college, dressed as you are, acting as you are?”

I hadn’t thought of this. Surely, she wouldn’t…

“What will you tell them when you want to bring them home? Sorry, but I have to put on my skirt because my roommate insists I play the part of a girl when I’m home?”

My cheeks burned furiously red as her words brought the reality of my situation crashing down on me.

I tried to interrupt but she continued, She continued, “If you brought a really nice girl home maybe we could share her? Maybe we could ask her who she’d want to be her boyfriend, you in your skirt and blouse, or me?” and with that she flexed her bicep above my head. It was massive, bigger than a baseball and the veins in her arms demonstrated her incredible strength.

“Who do you think she would prefer to be her man, to take care of her and protect her?”

My heart was racing and my face was red. I knew my neck was red too from blushing but also from the erotic power of the scene that Kara had created. I felt so weak, so controlled and so feminized. My weakness, her bulging muscles, her knowing smile. Yet it also felt so right.

I replied with a weak whisper “But, what about…”

Her eyes bore down on me, “Yes, sweetie, what’s that?”

I couldn’t say it but I had to. My dick was rock solid and I was sure Kara could see. I was so turned on. I had to. “What about, sex?”

I felt so erotically emasculated, asking this young muscular woman whether I could have sex. She owned every dimension of my life so completely that I was now asking, politely, with my pouted lips and doe eyes, if I could have sex.

She smiled and walked over to my bed. “Come here Michelle.”

She looked a vision of power and strength. I could see her taut thighs pressing against the fabric of her jeans. Her shoulders were square and strong and her breasts were small but perky. She was a goddess calling me to her. I followed her command.

She pulled me onto her lap and I could feel the contrast between us: my weak, soft torso and her iron-like grip and firm body. My dick was throbbing in my panties.

“You need sex, is that it?”

I looked at her with a pleading, submissive look?

“Do you need me to take care of your sexual needs?”

I was panting with lust and desire.

“Yes, please Kara.”

“And then you’ll be a good girl?”

She slid my head into the crook of her neck and I was lying prostrate along her powerful body.

“Yes, please.”

She put another hand on my ass, reaching up my skirt and squeezing my ass firmly.

“Do you want Kara to be your boyfriend?”

“Yes, Kara.”

“Say it.”

“Please, Kara. Please be my boyfriend.”

“Why should I?”

“Please, Kara. Please be my man. Protect me and take care of me and I’ll be your good girl. I’ll do everything you say like a good girl.”

She smiled and reached under my skirt to grab my dick through my panties. I felt her warm, strong grip on my throbbing cock and she began to pull it firmly as she put her mouth on mine. Her tongue invaded my mouth and I instinctively wrapped my lips around it. She shoved it in and out of my mouth before pulling away.

My dick was rock solid and I was on the verge of orgasm as she stopped.

“Say, Stacey’s a cunt.”

I was panting, “Stacey’s a cunt.”

“Say, I belong to Kara.”

“I belong to Kara.”

“Say, Kara is my man.”

“Kara is my man.”

“And, I’m Kara’s girl.”

“I’m Kara’s girl.”

“When you come, Michelle, I want you to moan like a girl. Can you do that?”

With that she masturbated me furiously and I moaned in my most porn star, submissive slut voice that I could. I moaned and screamed, “Please fuck me Kara. I’m so weak, I’m your girl.” In less than ten seconds I exploded in her grasp, my body writhing with sexual release. I felt load after load of hot cum fill my panties as I shouted with orgasm.

As I collected myself, I felt a mixture of satisfaction and shame at what had happened. I looked up and Kara was still smiling as she held me in her embrace. She let go gently and I slid to the floor in front of her. She then proceeded to remove her jeans, stood up for a second and slid down her black silk panties and then sat back down on the bed revealing her hairy pussy. Her legs were thick and clearly strong – my eyes traced the contours of her muscles to her crotch. I heard her say, “now it’s my turn,” she said and she guided my face into her wet pussy.

I placed my two delicate hands on either side of her thighs and braced myself against her strength as I licked and licked. She bucked against my face, grinding her already wet clit into my mouth. I worshipped her sex and I could hear her getting closer and closer to orgasm. In little time, she came hard and fast and I tasted her wet ejaculate in my mouth. She moaned and moaned as I continued to lick her before she finally moved away.

She looked down at me and I looked up from between her thighs, giving her once again the submissive, doting look that was becoming more and more common.

“Well done, Michelle. We’ll need to make that a regular part of your duties. Now, you agree, that you’re done with that cunt, Stacy”

“Yes, Kara. Whatever you say.”

“Good girl. Now go and get cleaned up and get started on dinner.”

Wonderall

We were seated together at one of our favorite

Learning Curves Part 3

The following morning I was standing in the gym lobby at 6:55 and my nervousness was increasing as we got closer and close to 7am. There had to be about 50 young women there and about 10 guys. Kara was running a bit late so had said she would meet me there but I didn’t see her in the crowd. I had put the light pink one piece on and found that it really did look like something out of an 80s workout video. It felt more androgynous than girlish, but it definitely wasn’t masculine. The outfit held my genitals and pushed them back giving me something of a smooth appearance in the front. It felt both weird and a little bit exciting to wear it.

When I first tried it on I felt strangely humiliated and considered dropping the course completely but I knew Kara wouldn’t let me get out of it now. I also was scared to have to return to Professor Stanton to be taken out of the course. So I put it on and slid my regular boy clothes over the one piece before walking to the gym.

I was sheepishly assessing the crowd, noticing the nervous looks of the other guys in the room, when a whistle was blown near the door to the gym. The crowd went quiet and everyone looked over at Professor Stanton standing at the door to the gym in tight workout clothes. Her tight yoga pants had the shimmering look of PVC and clung to her muscular legs. She wore a white tanktop overtop a red sports bra that held two large breasts. From the other side of the room I could see the definition in her arms: they were powerful and thick and I was mesmerized by her combination of sexuality and strength. She stood well over 6’ and towered over the room of women and men, although a number of the women were close to her size.

“Attention, please, class. Thank you all for getting here on time this morning.”

“The class will be broken up into 2 groups along gender lines. Men, please proceed to the change room on the left, women, you can use the change room on the right. Men, you will be training with Kate,” she gestured to a woman to her right.

Kate was a smaller woman in a pink jumpsuit, the same colour as the one I had. She looked younger than the Professor, and shorter by a good 2 or 3 inches, but fit and lively all the same. She smiled and waved to the group of boys who had assembled at the side of the room.

When the boys filed into their workout room, it turned out Kate was a fair bit younger than the Professor and quite a bit friendlier. She had a bubbly attitude and was welcoming as we all filed into the section of the gym where the boys would be working. She was tall, standing about 5’10, and while she wasn’t muscular like the Professor, I saw sinewy muscle in her arms and legs – she was still quite strong and toned.

“Gather around, boys” she said with a smile. She instructed us to form a circle on the mats around the room. We begrudgingly followed her instructions and found ourselves all looking to her. We looked like a strange group of guys, all wearing the outfits as instructed. I could see that there wasn’t one of us with much by way of muscles: we all had thin arms and legs. Kate was definitely the strongest person in the room … by a lot.

“Now, part of the goal of this course, as the Professor has indicated, is to help everyone build themselves towards a more equitable professional and personal life. In the classroom you’ve done the readings that help you understand why that’s important, in here we’ll do the work that helps make that possible. This class is really about social change, not just thinking about things but putting them into place, making them part of our daily lives.”

“I’ll be helping you with dietary decisions, exercise, and personal life choices that work towards a more equitable lifestyle.”

She went on explaining that the workout sessions would focus on diet, exercise, and personal behavior.

I was a bit worried about the workout because I had never really tried to lift weights before but then Kate brought out the weights that we would be using. They were pink dumbbells with weights of 3 and 5lb. Even I could lift that.

We spent the first half of the session stretching, limbering our legs, backs, and torsos. It felt strange to be in this group of androgynous-looking guys, in a circle around the mat, contorting our bodies in new ways. I expected the stretching would be a quick warmup but it went on for quite a while. After about 30 minutes of stretching I could really feel my legs opening up and felt a new ability to move. We then spent about 20 minutes doing bridges, raising our butts with the weights on our stomachs. This wasn’t tiring at first but we did it at least 100 times and eventually my glutes were burning. I was wavering with the intensity of the workout but when I looked over at Kate I could see the muscles in her bare legs flexing as she thrust upwards. I was relieved when Kate said we were done.

The final section of the class was about nutrition and Kate explained that we needed to record our daily food intake and that we would receive bonus marks for staying under 1200 calories and eating no meat. She walked us through the environmental benefits for this, the health benefits and other parts.

By the time the session was over I had sweat a little bit but mostly had a burning feeling in my abs and around my butt – those were the muscles we had worked out. I was proud of myself that I had got through the entire first workout.

At the end of the class, Kate spoke to each of us individually. I was a bit nervous and approached her with trepidation but she gave me a warm smile that lit me up inside.

“Mike! You did great, today.”

“Thank you.”

She placed a hand on my cheek and rubbed it assuringly. It was strangely familiar, but this whole class experience was strange.

“Did we scare you off? Will you be back?”

I smiled back, basking in her natural warmth, “Yes, I’ll be back. This was actually really fun.”

“Now, do you think you can do a good job and stick to the assignment?”

I was eager to please this woman: “Yes, I think so.”

Her smile broadened, “Great. You can email me if you have any questions at all, OK sweetie?”

“Yes, Kate. Well, I do have one question.”

“What’s that?”

“These outfits… are they necessary?”

She smiled again, “Oh, yes. They’re part of the Professor’s program. She has found that they’re a key part of the instruction.”

“OK.” I said.

“You have a great day. See you again soon.”

In the changeroom, all of the boys were quiet and quickly got changed back into their street clothes. I filed out first and found Kara in the lobby waiting for me: she was quite sweaty and looked exhilarated. She was talking to a group of other girls she’d met in the class and she waved me over.

All of the girls were taller, although Kara was the tallest in the group. One girl next to me was heavier and stood about 5’8 and a few others were between 5’8 and 5’10. They all looked like they’d had an intense workout and were all wearing the same matching black shimmery yoga pants. I could see the sweat on their various workout tops and it was clear to me that they’d had a serious workout.

I was surprised that they weren’t wearing the same outfits the guys had been wearing. I assumed that all of the students were but was it just the boys? Kara interrupted my thoughts.

“Hey, everyone, this is my friend, Mike. He’s in the class too.”

I looked at the girls with a weak smile and felt them assessing me – I suddenly felt the kind of erotic sensation of smallness and weakness that I’d been experiencing with Kara this past week. I felt small and slight next to these women and then somewhat irrelevant as they continued their conversation without me.

When Kara and I left the class, and we walked back to our apartment together, I asked her about the outfits.

“Well, those are the boys’ outfits, Mike. They’re designed to help you explore your feminine side.”

She put her arm around me and pulled me into her. I could feel the heat emanating from her body as well as the strength in her arm.

I looked down at her torso and could see her thick thigh muscles exuding from her yoga pants. Her legs were ripped with muscle.

“The Professor explained that women have been coaxed into feminine behavior their whole life so they need to be pushed in the opposite direction.”

“So the boys need to be more feminine and the girls more masculine? And we meet in the middle?”

She looked down at me and smiled, pulling me in closer to her large frame, “Something like that.”

Charlie's Angels Excerpt

For Charlie, his last phrase sent a thrill through her body. Her older brother, now smaller and definitely weaker, but still older, begging her to believe that he would never disobey her commands – it spoke to something deep in her being. His weakness, his soft arms, his light features, his willingness to please… she had an image of him on his knees, before her, actually begging for her forgiveness -- she felt her nipples harden. It touched some unknown and unspoken part of her being and her developing sexuality that she narrowed her eyes and licked her lips. I wouldn’t disobey you like that – it ran through her mind again and again like an electric charge. He had gone from an older boy she to this subjugated boy that now sat next to her pleading for her forgiveness. Such humiliation, such a reversal, such power.

In the small room the size disparity between the two of them was clear and she stood close to him. He felt like he was looking at a solid wall of muscular womanhood. Looking directly at her defined lower jaw, he felt like a child being chastised, fearful of what punishment she would dole out to him. She towered over him and looked like a muscular dominatrix in her bra and underwear. She held something pink out to him.

"Those are my old underwear. They don’t fit me anymore, but they’ll fit you. You’re going to wear those as a reminder of what happens when you defy my instructions. I’ll decide when you can go back to your old boy underwear but until then, I want you wearing those. This will also help ensure that you’re not trying anything with Charlene or any other girl.”

He was speechless again – wear her old underwear? He looked up at her with tears in his eyes.

“But I… I’m a boy” he said in protest.

“Yes, I know, little brother. But this is our secret way of you telling me that you accept me as the man of the house, you accept my rules and you’ll follow them properly. That you won’t try anything silly like asking a girl out without getting my permission first.”

He looked at the girlish underwear in his hands, feeling the silky material and imagining the humiliation of putting it on each morning. He looked up at her and felt completely subdued and a mix of arousal and submission. Her powerful body, like iron in her black underwear and bra. She exuded pure power and he was doing everything he could to simply not fall to his knees and beg her to let him go. He had no choice but to obey her.

As if sensing his thoughts, she said, in a sultry voice, “This is an important symbol for you. A recognition that we’ve swapped roles, that you’re my little sister now. That you’re a good, chaste little sister.”

She let her words sink in and placed a thumb under his chin and tilted his head to meet her eyes, “You can agree to be my little sister in private or I can show the whole school that you’re my little sister. If I show everyone at school, you’ll never get a date again. If you agree to these terms, I might let you out of them once in a while. I might give you back your masculinity if you’re a good enough girl.”

His eyes watered slightly and he felt his knees almost give out. It was an overwhelming feeling of powerlessness combined with a deep sense of unfairness, “But Charlie, please, you can’t. Please, don’t make me.”

She looked down at him with a benevolent look of authority. "Come on now, be a good girl."

Learning Curves Part 2

That afternoon, Kara called me into my room where she had laid out ten pairs of panties of different colors.

I looked at them and then back at her. She explained calmly, “Michelle, I bought you these as a gift, a symbol of the new self I think you need to become.” She paused to gauge my reaction. “I want you to wear these, as a sign of your acceptance of living as a new, transformed self, of living under my rules. Can you do that sweetie?”

My face was red with both embarrassment and arousal. I met her eyes and nodded slowly.

“Good girl.”

I looked back down at the panties, somewhat reluctantly. She put a hand on my shoulder and said, “Listen, there’s probably a part of your brain that is telling you to run, telling you to escape the things I’m doing to you, the things I’m going to make your do.”

I gulped audibly as she continued.

“But there’s another part of your brain that wants this. That feels the pleasure of submitting to me, of living in the shadow of my power, of enjoying being small and weak. That’s the pleasure you feel when you look at me, when you think of how much I’ve grown, and how much you haven’t. When you think of my height and my muscles and my confidence and a little part of you shivers inside. That’s the part I want to help grow, Michelle. Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes, Kara.” I said weakly.

“I’ve read the stories you keep going back to, Michelle. The stories of a wife overpowering a husband in bed – fucking him like he’s the girl, of a sister stronger than a brother – taking over the household, or a fit, muscular female CEO with her weak, male secretary – the one where she marries him and fucks him with a strapon on their honeymoon. You love those, don’t you?”

My face was red and I averted my gaze, “I … I don’t know Kara. It’s just fantasy. I don’t know if I really want that.”

She smiled and placed her thumb under my chin, raising it to look at her eyes. Her gaze cut through me and I felt both weak in my knees and a growing erection.

“Exactly. You don’t know. So let me see how it feels when we explore that together. Let’s see what kinds of submission works for you, and how much you like being my agreeable, submissive girl roomie.”

“Putting on these panties will be an important symbol for you to agree that you’ll be guided by me. I think we can both acknowledge that manhood hasn’t really worked out for you, has it? You’re kind of directionless, adrift, and, to be honest, just too weak.”

She wrapped one of her powerful hands around my thin arms and squeezed it firmly. “I think you’re definitely the girlier one in the house sweetie.” She continued, “And when I took your computer away and gave you instructions on how to live, it improved your life, didn’t it?”

I nodded silently.

“You need more of that sweetie. More of my firm hand directing you.” She continued, “It will be so good for you, Michelle. To have me guide you, to help you turn your life around. You’ll learn to look to me for guidance and direction.”

“So go ahead, put your panties on.” As she said this she released my arm.

“Now?” I asked.

“Yes, now.”

“Can I have some privacy at least?”

She furrowed her brow at me, “No. This is an important moment for both of us, of you accepting my rules, and I’m going to be here for it. Now, do as I say.” She spoke firmly and directly.

I slowly slid off my pants, and then my boxers. I tried to turn my body away from her but she grabbed my shoulder with a strong arm and turned me around, “Don’t you hide from me!” and she looked down at my penis dangling between my legs.

“Well you’re not all girl… you have a nice cock, Michelle. You shouldn’t be shy about it.”

Something about being naked in front of Kara and appraised by by her was turning me on

“Now, get dressed.”

I reached for a pair of pink panties closest to me and pulled them up my legs. I reached for my pants before she stopped me.

“Hold on. Let me see you.” I turned towards her. “Please spin around.”

I did as she instructed and saw she was smiling at me. “Very good. You’re already learning to follow my instructions. I also wondered which color you would pick -- pink tells me that you really are a girl underneath all of the male exterior. That you’re trying to subtly not just accept, but love, your new girlie self.”

I replied, “Well I didn’t really have a choice did I?”

“You always have a choice. But you’re obedient, Michelle. In your heart, I just know you want a strong woman to tell you what to do. And so when I command, you obey. Isn’t that right?”

I didn’t reply.

“I said, Isn’t that right Michelle?”

“Yes, Kara.”

She smiled. “Good girl. Now, when you spin around like this, you should take your time. Let me really take in how you look – give me something to think about.” And with that she reached around and pinched my ass.

“Now, don’t put on your old boy pants.” And with that she reached into a bag she had brought into the room and pulled out a light yellow skirt. “Put this on instead.”

I wasn’t going to argue again so simply replied, “Yes, Kara.”

I took the skirt from her hand and slid it up my legs. I had to admit that the skirt made my legs and ass look good. I was always hairless on my legs so I really was starting to look like a girl.

Kara took me in before commenting, “Wow, you like fabulous, Michelle. Your legs are so thin and soft, you’re a natural. And those legs are so smooth and feminine.”

She pulled her shorts up one of her legs and stuck it out next to mine. Her legs were thick and meaty and when she flexed I could see the swollen muscle of her thigh – it was so large and strong, I longed to sink to my knees and kiss it.

“I’m a little jealous, Michelle. Your legs are so much more feminine than mine. See how much bigger I am than you?”

I could feel an erection forming in my pants and said, “Yes… you’re so much bigger Kara.”

“I know, sweetie. I’m younger than you but so much bigger. My Mom bought me this skirt last year but I could never fit into it because my muscles are too big.”

I was breathing heavily as she continued to describe it.

“My Mom really hoped that this skirt would help me feel like more of a girl. It didn’t work for me, but is it working for you sweetie?”

“Yes…” I whispered, almost panting with lust.

She put her arm in front of my face. “Feel my bicep.” I did as instructed and she flexed, I felt the muscle underneath explode. My heart was racing and I was rock hard in the panties. She lingered a second before she pulled me into her and whispered into my ear, “Now you should really feel like a girl. I’m definitely the man here.”

She licked my ear slightly and my body tingled with erotic sensation. “Now do another spin, but this time, go slow and stick your ass out. Show me how sexy a girl you can be.”

I did and she instructed, taking time to present my ass to her. She squeezed it firmly as I spun.

“Oh yes, you’re a natural. I see now why you’re drawn to all that submissive erotica and porn. It’s a safe space where the real you, the girly you, can come out. Now I’m going to bring that girly you out here.”

She gave me a kiss on the forehead and then walked out of kitchen leaving me there with the pile of panties, my heart racing, and my heart pounding. As she walked away she called, “I’ll have my dinner in about an hour. Please don’t make a lot of noise as you’re cooking it as I need to study. There’s a girl.”

I was left standing there in the pink panties and skirt with a thick erection pushing against my panties.

About an hour later I had finished making a meat pasta for dinner and I knocked softly on Kara’s door. She was working at her desk and looked up at me with a smile. “Is dinner ready? Thanks.”

She had changed a tank top and shorts and I was a little taken aback when she unfurled her body from the chair and stood up. Her face was still young so at times she still seemed like the girl next door but when she stood up, standing 5” taller than me, and seeing her upper body a collage of tanned muscle, I remembered just how powerful and developed she was. My body trembled involuntarily when I saw her power.

She smiled at me and said, “I’m glad you’re still in your skirt. You look so cute in it. But we should paint your nails. Painted nails would make you look so cute.”

I felt humiliated and aroused – the girl next door had remade me into something of a doll while she herself was becoming more and more powerful.

I walked behind her into the kitchen and watched as she took her dinner. There was a part of me that felt proud and satisfied that I could make a small contribution to supporting this incredible woman.

“Thanks so much for this. It smells great.” She poured us each a glass of wine and we got talking. She said, somewhat casually, “I don’t think you should feel embarrassed about your submissive inclinations. Like I said earlier, we’re a good pair: I want to be dominant, you want to be submissive.”

She continued, “It’s just who you are: for you, being led is important, for me, leading and having muscles is important. I saw how guys treated girls and I didn’t want to be treated that way.”

“In what way” I asked.

“I don’t know. I guess, I just wanted to ensure that I took the guy position. I kinda learned that this summer…” she reclined in her chair and put her hands behind her head. My eyes traced the swell of her biceps and I thought about feeling them earlier that day. My breath was already heavy with desire and my mind was swimming a fog of lust. I felt like I was losing myself to Kara’s forceful personality and her continually arousing behavior. Did she want me or was she just teasing me? What could I do to make her want me? To make her fuck me?

She continued, bringing me out of my haze, “There was a guy who worked on the tree planting crew with me, his name with Rob, and he was so cocky. He was older than the rest of us and he thought he was the best and  could have any girl. He had some strength but it was more flab than muscle. At the beginning of the summer, one evening, he tried to come onto me and I pulled away. He tried to pull me into his lap and I got away – just barely. He was a predator – so gross. I knew after that, that I had to get strong to keep him, and other guys like him, away.”

“So every night while he was drinking beer and ogling the girls, I would do chin ups, lift weights, and do crunches. That plus the tree planting was helping me get really strong. My goal was to ensure that none of those guys, especially Rob, could ever touch me.”

“Everyone on the camp noticed how I was building up my muscles and occasionally Rob would make a snide remark about how I was trying to become a man or how no guy would touch me if I looked like a man. He was a supervisor there so he spent the days driving around in his truck, eating chips, drinking beer. While I was getting stronger and more cut, he was getting fatter. By about midway through the summer, I knew I could take him.”

“About a week before we were set to leave, everyone was drinking and Rob tried to come onto me. I told him I wasn’t interested but when I left the fire to pee, he followed me into the bushes. It happened so quickly, I don’t think he could’ve ever imagined what I was thinking.”

She took a sip of her wine. She was clearly reliving the experience in her mind and I was right there with her.

“I can still picture his face, looking at me with a drunken sneer, as he started to unbuckle his pants. He mumbled something about ‘finally giving me what I’d been asking for’ and then and tried to push me to the ground.”

“I dodged his push and instead flipped him onto the ground. His pants were around his ankles and I got on top of him and wrapped my legs around his neck and started slapping his face and then his ass. Hard.” By now the wine was taking effect and I could see her nipples poking out of her tank top as she recalled the scene.

She was a vision of a young goddess, the nipples of her firm breasts looking firm in her tanktop, her neck was strong and her shoulder muscles swelled as she told the story.  I was adrift on her words.

“He was trapped and he must’ve suddenly realized just how strong I was as he was trying to pry my thighs open. I looked down at him, his face trapped between my calves and squeezed a little, then a little more. It was crazy how easily I’d turned the tables. Within a few seconds he was crying, begging me to stop.”

She paused and looked at me, breathing heavily.

“I pulled out my phone and started recording him. I asked him if he was begging me to let him go and he cried yes. I asked him if he was going to be a good boy and do what I said for the rest of the summer and he said yes.”

“He had tears coming down his face and he looked totally defeated, totally humiliated. It was fucking hot so I straddled his face and made him eat my pussy until I came all over him.”

We were both breathing heavily now and Kara was staring at me firmly.

“He knew he had to obey my orders from then on or I’d show everyone the recording of him crying between my legs. Everyone knew that something had changed because I would snap and say ‘Robbie, clean the dishes’ or ‘Robbie, wash my clothes tonight’ and he would do it. I would snap my fingers and he would jump”

She continued to look at me with an intense gaze: “I don’t want you to think of yourself like that, Michelle… Robbie was someone who needed to be put in his place, to understand that women aren’t his playthings. You’re someone who understands your place, who respects the superiority of women.” She paused, “I think you sense that superiority and that’s why you want to be a woman.”

I spoke up, “ I don’t want to be a woman.”

She continued, “Well at least, you need help seeing your own inner woman, to recognize that you haven’t succeeded as a man but could be an amazing girl.” She smiled at me before continuing, “I don’t want to break you like Robbie, I want to help remake you by taking you under my wing.”

I smiled back at her. Her words were so assured and confident and I felt myself wrapping myself around them, “Yes, Kara. I understand.”

“Good girl.”

She took another sip of her wine, “Now, I need to get back to studying. You don’t mind cleaning up, do you?” she asked with a cocked eyebrow.

I smiled, “No, Kara” and she smiled right back.

That night, Kara brought my a few silk nighties to sleep in, insisting that I get used to the feeling of something soft and sulty. Later, I lay in bed, and felt aroused at both the feeling of the silk and I touched myself thinking about the story she had told me. About her sweaty, powerful body at the tree planting camp, about her lifting weights, doing chin-ups, and building her muscles. About how she had conquered the men there and become the undisputed alpha at the camp. Her strength, her drive, her combination of power, femininity, and masculinity. The power in her thighs as she crushed Robbie… what would I have given to have my face between them, worshipping her.

While she was building herself up, turning herself into a young amazon, I’d been working at a dead end job reading books, playing games, and going nowhere. I thought about her saying she was going to take me under her wing and remake me. I thought about the muscles in her neck and forearms, glinting in the light, as she told me her story. The contrast between us was incredible – my legs were thin, white, and weak whereas hers were thick and strong. Her whole body was rich with thick, knotted muscles and I was so soft and small in comparison. I touched the small lump of flesh on my chest, the soft weak chest that looked anything but masculine, and pulled my nipple, thinking of her pectorals, her tits, her biceps, her clit.

It all turned me on so much and I lay in bed my cock thickened and I began pounding it furiously. I looked to the door, fantasizing that Kara would step through, spread my legs, and fuck me. Instead, I soon came into a pile of tissues and then rolled over and fell asleep.

The next morning I was making breakfast and Kara told me to get ready and come with her to her class. “There’s someone you really have to meet. It’s like this class was made for you.”

I didn’t have class that morning so I agreed. Dressed in my usual boy clothes, but with panties underneath, I followed her to WMNS201: Amazon Feminism. Apparently the class was taught by Professor Stanton, someone I’d heard about as a kind of radical feminist on campus. We got there just as the class was starting and found places at the back of the lecture hall.

Prof. Stanton was a tall woman, easily 6’2, and moved around the front of the class with ferocity and intent. In her classroom were a small smattering of boys at the back of the room but the rest of the class was packed with women. The Professor was wearing a red blouse with short sleeves and a long skirt. Her black hair was cut short, giving her a fierce look. I found a seat at the back and listened to parts of the lecture. She moved across the front of the hall as she spoke: “Amazon feminism is about recognizing women’s innate strength and power and using that to redress the inequities of the past. Feminism has taken an intellectual approach to seeking equality – in this class we draw on readings that take a combined intellectual and physical approach towards equity, to build women up…”
Looking around the room, I could see that the women in the class hung on the Professor’s every word and were completely convinced by the points she was making.

At the end of class, Kara insisted I go to the front of the classroom to meet the Professor.

Needless to say, I was completely intimidated. If Professor Stanton looked imposing from the back of the room, she looked absolutely amazonian up close. She was wearing 3” heels and must have been 6’5 in her heels -- I didn’t even reach her shoulders. Those shoulders were round and looked strong and my eyes took some time tracing the noticeable muscles in her arms. Her arms were strong, with notable veins running from her bicep up to her wrist. She was clearly in her late 40s or early 50s but had the strong body of a much younger woman and exuded virility. She looked like she had been carved out of stone.

We approached together and as we walked up, the Professor turned to us. Kara was behind me and I felt her strong arms push me forward. The Professor turned to look at me, and, as she did, I noticed her calve muscles flexed in her heels and her lengthy skirt was wrapped tightly around thick hips. She looked like a strange combination of a professional bodybuilder and a female wrestler but was dressed in professional clothing. I had to physically look up to make eye contact with her and the effect made me feel childlike in her presence. She appraised me quickly and said, in a deep voice, “Yes, young man, how can I help you?”

I felt absolutely tiny standing between this gigantic woman and the young amazon. I was in stunned silence, but Kara spoke, “Professor, this is my friend and he’d like to sign up for your class.”

I did?!? I hadn’t discussed this with Kara. Sensing my uncertainty, she squeezed my shoulder.

She looked me up and down before speaking, “Young man, you do understand this class is primarily focused on women’s issues?”

I looked to Kara who subtly nodded at me.

“Yes, Professor. I would still like to attend.”

She stared at me for a moment before speaking. “And do you understand that this class has a large physical component to it?”

Physical component? What did that mean? Kara squeezed my shoulder again.

“Yes. I understand.”

She appraised me again before saying, “Very well. Follow me to my office.”

Kara said she would meet me after class and I followed the Professor as she returned to her office. I almost had to run to keep up with her and more than once I found my eyes looking at her powerful legs striding down the hallway. Her calve muscles flexed full and powerful with each stride -- this woman was like something out of my fantasies: tall, powerful, and domineering. Her leg muscles burst with each stride and I found myself fixated on them.

At last we arrived in her office – a large office with old, expensive furniture and walls lined with books. She took her place behind the stately desk and quickly filled out a form. As she did so, I stood in front of her office, waiting for her to acknowledge me. She filled out the form and then looked up at me.

“Your girlfriend, she is making you take this course?” she asked directly, with a cocked eyebrow.

“Kara, she isn’t my girlfriend. My roommate. We’re just friends.”

She contemplated me for a second before continuing. “Did she explain the basis of the course?”

“Not exactly.”

The professor put her elbows on the desk and exhaled: “The course is based on both a series of readings and theories that help women to realize their full potential as well as a series of physical laboratories where women are encouraged to physically realize their potential. This means we meet in a gym four mornings a week. These sessions are mandatory. Will that be a problem?”

I found myself replying automatically: “No, Professor.”

She smiled, “It also means that the boys in the class do separate physical work than the women. We organize the course on the principle of equity, not equality. So women do one set of work that is aimed at supporting their equality. And boys do different work that is aimed at sharing power with women. Rather than exclude boys from the course, I am committed to helping them see their own important roles within an amazon feminist worldview.” She paused, “Are you comfortable with that?”

I had no idea what she meant by this but found myself saying, “Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled. “Good.”

She stood up and came around the desk towards me: again, I felt like a small object of prey being surveyed by a predator – I was eye level with her breasts, I could see the muscles in her long powerful legs and in her arms. She was so close to me that I could smell the slight perfume on her body. She exuded a powerful pheromone that was immediately intoxicating: I had a vision that she would press me against the desk there and rape me – there would be nothing I could do other than accept her dominance. I would melt next to her powerful body. My wish did not come true.

Instead, she spoke in a low voice, “I don’t want some boy coming in here trying to prove he’s a man, trying to prove that he can compete with these young women. I expect you to follow instructions and be a good, supportive presence in the class.”

She seized my arm with her hand and squeezed. Her grip was tight and strong and her hand felt like granite as she wrapped it around my soft flesh.

She continued, “That means being supportive when asked, deferential when instructed, and obedient when told.”

The past few days I’d been living in something of a haze of fantasy and sexuality, first with Kara, who had blossomed from the girl next door into an amazonian goddess, and now with this Professor who stood in front of me like a muscular dominatrix with her powerful arm wrapped around mine. I was losing my bearings on what to do and felt like I was being pulled along a stream over which I had no control. At the same time I was loving every second of it, surrounded by tall, powerful women. I was so close to this statuesque, dominant amazon and could feel my heart racing and my cock hardening in my pants. The pain was intense but it was equal to my arousal. My eyes were fixed on the floor and her black stilettos “Yes… Yes ma’am.”

“Look at me when I speak to you.”

I looked up into her fierce eyes and felt myself shaking slightly. She held my arm firmly.

“I’m sorry ma’am. Yes, I’ll be good.”

She smiled and surveyed me for a moment. “Good,” she said quickly and handed me the sheet, releasing me.

She shouted, “Robert, come in here please.”

From the next office over, another Professor, a small, older man with a slight paunch and in a dusty jacket and dress pants came into the office moving with what could only be described as a hasty scurry: “Yes, Ma.. Rachel?” he asked.

I recognized the Professor as one of the senior instructors at the school. He might have had seniority on Professor Stanton but he looked absolutely cowed in her presence. We stood before her like two schoolboys.

“Please take this form to the secretary to process this student’s enrollment. Thank you dear.” She briskly handed him the form and returned to her desk and began taking out some papers.

The two of us stood there unsure of what to do next before Professor Stanton looked up and snapped her fingers, “Now, please. I have work to do.” We jumped at the irritation in her voice before moving quickly out of the office. The older Professor silently guided me to the secretary’s desk and handed her the enrollment form. She looked me over with an amused look and confirmed that I was enrolled before advising me to go to the bookstore to get my supplies.

At the bookstore I found the readings for the course but was surprised to learn the course also included an article of clothing. The article was a light pink one piece that looked halfway between a swim suit and workout clothing from the 1980s. I held it up and wondered what it was for before paying at the front cash and read the course outline while waiting in line. It turned out the first ‘lab’ session was tomorrow morning at 7am in the gym – the space had been rented specifically for our class.

That evening, back at the apartment, I asked Kara what the course was about and why we were going to the gym. She smiled, but said, “I’m not totally sure – something about strength and equity. All I know is that we’re supposed to wear the clothing provided with the course books and be ready to exercise tomorrow.” We were standing together in the kitchen and I told her I felt unsure about the whole thing and asked her if she thought the class was really a good idea.

She came up behind me, pressing her body into mine and pushing me against the oven, “Michelle, didn’t I tell you that I was going to help you?”

I was silent. I could feel her strong body pressing against mine. Again, I could barely think with desire.

“Did I, Michelle?”

“Yes,” I whispered weakly.

“Then let me do it. I’ll tell you what’s good for you. You just follow my lead. Let a strong woman be in charge… just like you’ve always wanted. OK, sweetie?”

My cock was rock hard in my panties and I was breathing heavily. “Yes, yes.”

She pulled away, “Good girl. Be ready in the morning.”

The following morning I was standing in the gym lobby at 6:55 and my nervousness was increasing as we got closer and close to 7am. There had to be about 50 young women there and about 10 guys. Kara was running a bit late so had said she would meet me there but I didn’t see her in the crowd. I had put the light pink one piece on and found that it really did look like something out of an 80s workout video. It felt more androgynous than girlish, but it definitely wasn’t masculine. The outfit held my genitals and pushed them back giving me something of a smooth appearance in the front. It felt both weird and a little bit exciting to wear it.

When I first tried it on I felt strangely humiliated and considered dropping the course completely but I knew Kara wouldn’t let me get out of it now. I also was scared to have to return to Professor Stanton to be taken out of the course. So I put it on and slid my regular boy clothes over the one piece before walking to the gym.

I was sheepishly assessing the crowd, noticing the nervous looks of the other guys in the room, when a whistle was blown near the door to the gym. The crowd went quiet and everyone looked over at Professor Stanton standing at the door to the gym in tight workout clothes. Her tight yoga pants had the shimmering look of PVC and clung to her muscular legs. She wore a white tanktop overtop a red sports bra that held two large breasts. From the other side of the room I could see the definition in her arms: they were powerful and thick and I was mesmerized by her combination of sexuality and strength. She stood well over 6’ and towered over the room of women and men, although a number of the women were close to her size.

“Attention, please, class. Thank you all for getting here on time this morning.”

“The class will be broken up into 2 groups along gender lines. Men, please proceed to the change room on the left, women, you can use the change room on the right. Men, you will be training with Kate,” she gestured to a woman to her right.

Kate was a smaller woman in a pink jumpsuit, the same colour as the one I had. She looked younger than the Professor, and shorter by a good 2 or 3 inches, but fit and lively all the same. She smiled and waved to the group of boys who had assembled at the side of the room.

When the boys filed into their workout room, it turned out Kate was a fair bit younger than the Professor and quite a bit friendlier. She had a bubbly attitude and was welcoming as we all filed into the section of the gym where the boys would be working. She was tall, standing about 5’10, and while she wasn’t muscular like the Professor, I saw sinewy muscle in her arms and legs – she was still quite strong and toned.

“Gather around, boys” she said with a smile. She instructed us to form a circle on the mats around the room. We begrudgingly followed her instructions and found ourselves all looking to her. We looked like a strange group of guys, all wearing the outfits as instructed. I could see that there wasn’t one of us with much by way of muscles: we all had thin arms and legs. Kate was definitely the strongest person in the room … by a lot.

“Now, part of the goal of this course, as the Professor has indicated, is to help everyone build themselves towards a more equitable professional and personal life. In the classroom you’ve done the readings that help you understand why that’s important, in here we’ll do the work that helps make that possible. This class is really about social change, not just thinking about things but putting them into place, making them part of our daily lives.”

“I’ll be helping you with dietary decisions, exercise, and personal life choices that work towards a more equitable lifestyle.”

She went on explaining that the workout sessions would focus on diet, exercise, and personal behavior.

I was a bit worried about the workout because I had never really tried to lift weights before but then Kate brought out the weights that we would be using. They were pink dumbbells with weights of 3 and 5lb. Even I could lift that.

We spent the first half of the session stretching, limbering our legs, backs, and torsos. It felt strange to be in this group of androgynous-looking guys, in a circle around the mat, contorting our bodies in new ways. I expected the stretching would be a quick warmup but it went on for quite a while. After about 30 minutes of stretching I could really feel my legs opening up and felt a new ability to move. We then spent about 20 minutes doing bridges, raising our butts with the weights on our stomachs. This wasn’t tiring at first but we did it at least 100 times and eventually my glutes were burning. I was wavering with the intensity of the workout but when I looked over at Kate I could see the muscles in her bare legs flexing as she thrust upwards. I was relieved when Kate said we were done.

The final section of the class was about nutrition and Kate explained that we needed to record our daily food intake and that we would receive bonus marks for staying under 1200 calories and eating no meat. She walked us through the environmental benefits for this, the health benefits and other parts.

By the time the session was over I had sweat a little bit but mostly had a burning feeling in my abs and around my butt – those were the muscles we had worked out. I was proud of myself that I had got through the entire first workout.

At the end of the class, Kate spoke to each of us individually. I was a bit nervous and approached her with trepidation but she gave me a warm smile that lit me up inside.

“Mike! You did great, today.”

“Thank you.”

She placed a hand on my cheek and rubbed it assuringly. It was strangely familiar, but this whole class experience was strange.

“Did we scare you off? Will you be back?”

I smiled back, basking in her natural warmth, “Yes, I’ll be back. This was actually really fun.”

“Now, do you think you can do a good job and stick to the assignment?”

I was eager to please this woman: “Yes, I think so.”

Her smile broadened, “Great. You can email me if you have any questions at all, OK sweetie?”

“Yes, Kate. Well, I do have one question.”

“What’s that?”

“These outfits… are they necessary?”

She smiled again, “Oh, yes. They’re part of the Professor’s program. She has found that they’re a key part of the instruction.”

“OK.” I said.

“You have a great day. See you again soon.”

In the changeroom, all of the boys were quiet and quickly got changed back into their street clothes. I filed out first and found Kara in the lobby waiting for me: she was quite sweaty and looked exhilarated. She was talking to a group of other girls she’d met in the class and she waved me over.

All of the girls were taller, although Kara was the tallest in the group. One girl next to me was heavier and stood about 5’8 and a few others were between 5’8 and 5’10. They all looked like they’d had an intense workout and were all wearing the same matching black shimmery yoga pants. I could see the sweat on their various workout tops and it was clear to me that they’d had a serious workout.

I was surprised that they weren’t wearing the same outfits the guys had been wearing. I assumed that all of the students were but was it just the boys? Kara interrupted my thoughts.

“Hey, everyone, this is my friend, Mike. He’s in the class too.”

I looked at the girls with a weak smile and felt them assessing me – I suddenly felt the kind of erotic sensation of smallness and weakness that I’d been experiencing with Kara this past week. I felt small and slight next to these women and then somewhat irrelevant as they continued their conversation without me.

When Kara and I left the class, and we walked back to our apartment together, I asked her about the outfits.

“Well, those are the boys’ outfits, Mike. They’re designed to help you explore your feminine side.”

She put her arm around me and pulled me into her. I could feel the heat emanating from her body as well as the strength in her arm.

I looked down at her torso and could see her thick thigh muscles exuding from her yoga pants. Her legs were ripped with muscle.

“The Professor explained that women have been coaxed into feminine behavior their whole life so they need to be pushed in the opposite direction.”

“So the boys need to be more feminine and the girls more masculine? And we meet in the middle?”

She looked down at me and smiled, pulling me in closer to her large frame, “Something like that.”

Snowed In Part 5

A week later, Karen was out at the store and I was getting dressed but when I looked in the mirror, I noticed that my breasts had definitely grown. They were fuller, more sensitive, and the pink nipples had become more swollen. What had once been small bumps, were now large A cups or small B cups that wobbled when I moved. It took me a second for before the reality of the situation hit me: I had breasts. I had noticed their new fullness a little bit, but it had never really became clear before now.

My mind was so busy with the new dynamics of Karen and I’s relationship that I didn’t even stop to think just how strange this all was. I had a continuous feeling of kind of swimming through the last few days where things were fuzzy and a bit foggy, but also… good. I wanted this, I loved this new dynamic. It must have been the Regenahealth… I was aroused all the time now, thinking of Karen’s growing clit, her female cock. Washing dishes, working, cleaning the house, preparing her food… my mind would wander to her, her powerful thighs, the cut of her muscles, the sleek sweat of her body as she exercised, the bulge between her legs… I wanted to sink to my knees… I licked my lips. Again, I realized, I had lost track of my thoughts, of my tits…

I looked in the mirror again and cupped them in my hands. They were substantial – not huge, but large enough that someone could hold each in their hand, manipulate them, pull the nipple, squeeze them. Karen could do it…

Wondering what size I was, I reached into the dresser and pulled out a pink, sparkly bra that read 32B and slid it over my chest. My breasts didn’t completely fill the bra, but it was close. The bra had an underwire that gave it a push up quality and turned my smaller boobs into pretty large cleavage. What would I look like, I wondered, if I leaned into it a little more. I slid my slim cock into a pair of pink panties, picked up a small, white skirt that Karen had given to me a few days before and slid it up my thin, hairless legs. I looked at myself in the mirror.

I was a girl. There was no denying it. My breasts were on the small side but the bra gave them the illusion of heft and presence. My skirt wrapped around me in a way that emphasized my the swell of my ass and the thin curve of my hips. My face still had a masculine quality, but I was always a little bit effeminate in my appearance, with long eyelashes, pouty lips, and a gentle, smooth jawline. A little bit of makeup and I would look exactly like a young woman.

I leaned into my reflection in the mirror, pressing my breasts together, sucking in my stomach and pushing out my ass. I imagined Karen behind me, taking hold of waist firmly and possessively, driving her cock into my yearning, willing ass. I wiggled for her, squirming my ass, shaking my tits, yearning for her to take me.

“Please, master… fuck me,” I said in my best feminine, yet sultry, voice. I could feel my nipples hardening as I imagined her there.

Again my thoughts went to her swollen clit, her female cock. It’s size, it’s power, I needed it…  my heart was racing and my nipples were hard.

I swallowed heavily and sat back down at the dresser and opened my laptop. How were other ‘men’ coping with these new changes in their lives and how had Regenahealth affected them? My heart was still beating heavily and I could feel the cool air on the top of my breast as I logged into the forums and began to read…

Remarried

It’s been about 6 months and the changes have been staggering. We used to be the same height and about the same build, but she has grown, and grown, and grown. The wife I knew, who I looked at as an equal, is gone, and now I’m with this powerful, dominant goddess. She is so powerful, so tall, so dominant… sometimes it’s scary. She commands, I obey… She snaps her fingers, I jump… A few weeks ago I made the mistakes said to her, “Our marriage isn’t what it used to be,” and she said, “You’re right.” Later that night she proposed and asked me to remarry her as her “lawfully obedient wife…” I didn’t understand but agreed… A few weeks later we were remarried, with me as her bride. I promised to “honour, worship, and obey” her…

Measuring Up

I don’t know how we got into this routine, but every night now, she makes me measure my dick against hers. I’m not allowed to call it her clit anymore, it’s her dick. In fact, she’s started calling my dick, my “little clitty.” At first it was strange, but now it’s a kind of ritual humiliation that I actually kind of look forward to. I get erect and then we measure side by side, but there’s no competition. I was always a little short, 5” totally erect, but her cock is an absolute mammoth: 10” and I can barely wrap my hand around it. She presses her cock against my clit and me thank her cock for being the real man of the household. She’s tied a pink ribbon around my clitty and I feel so… feminine… so small... You’d think I might complain but, I have to be honest, all I want to do is drink her cum…

Safe

I was always short, and was never a manly man -- I always felt like I needed to prove to my girlfriend that I could do all of the manly things that I thought she wanted me to do. She was always a little taller and, truthfully, a little stronger but after she started taking Renegahealth, and her clit grew, and grew, all of that was gone. The first time she fucked me with that clit, I screamed for it. Then I would dream about it and wake up with my hands wrapped around her growing shaft. She had taken the male position in our lives and, deep down, I loved it.

One night, after dinner, she sat me down and said “It’s time to stop pretending.” At first I didn’t understand, but she just smiled and took my hand and placed it on her clit, under the table. It was 4” flaccid at this point, and far bigger aroused. She said, “Stop pretending to be a man. I’m man enough for both of us.” She stood up to her full height and, I felt it… she was so much bigger so much stronger. Finally, I was safe, safe with her to protect me, safe in her arms. I watched her muscles dance as she stripped out of her clothes and then pulled my clothes off of me. She scooped me up in her arms, and carried me to the bedroom…

Her Girl

I can’t lie – I was always into Asian girls because I thought they were submissive, polite, docile, and obedient. I wanted a smiling, small girl who would listen to me, laugh at my jokes, and agree with everything I said. My girlfriend was never those things – I learned quickly that she had a mind of her own and wouldn’t be bossed around by me. She was angry when I told her that I was attracted to Asian girls for that reason but she didn’t make a big deal out of it. She always went to the gym, and was always fit and, I have to admit, probably a bit stronger than me. When I would talk about my desire for a submissive Asian girl she would challenge me to a wrestling match… I’d laugh it off but her sarcastic smile told me that she understood I was a little bit scared.

But that was the ‘before’ time – before when Regenahealth changed everything… Now there’s no question who is in charge. First she grew in height, going from 5’4 to 5’6 in a few weeks, passing my own 5’8 and now she’s 6’3. As she grew in height, she also grew larger muscles – she packed them on. And of course, her clit swelled, grew, and expanded, and now she has an 8” girlcock. The changes in our relationship were almost instantaneous – one day she presented me a skirt, a blouse, and said, “I like my men, quiet, obedient and submissive.” I had no choice.

She makes me shave my body and paint my toenails because that’s “what good girls do.” Now she’s using everything I told her against me: saying that since I’m the smaller one, the girlier one, I must be docile, obedient, and service her as my master. She keeps saying that she’s going to enroll me in geisha training to be her obedient servile boi… I present her dinner to her every night dressed like a good wife, bow, and kiss her muscles. The whole time, I’m just thinking about her fucking me… I’ve become everything I thought I wanted in a submissive wife… and, I can’t lie, I love it…

My Girlfriend

I can’t believe the way things have changed. Andrea and I were always good friends when we were kids, but when she got a little older, and developed into an attractive young woman, I thought she wouldn’t have anything to do with me. I was a small nerd, she was an athlete and a cheerleader… I figured our connection would die out. It didn’t, we dated, and after Regenahealth, things have changed so much. She was always tall but now she’s so muscular, so tall, so powerful… she’s my goddess…

My Boss

I’ve been a good employee for a long time and was always ‘under’ my boss, but never like this. All the women in the office started taking Regenahealth around the same time and changes were immediately noticeable. You could subtly see the dynamics in the office shifting – the men getting quieter, being more subordinate, and the women taking charge. This coincided with the women getting taller, stronger, more assertive. One day my boss called me into her office, sat on the desk in front of me and unzipped her pants. Her cock was in my mouth so quickly I could barely get a word out. Now, I can’t get enough of it. I need her cum everyday…

Her Girls

The three of us were always friends and I think both Nick and I had a crush on Stacey. We were hanging out at her place one night where she started talking about Regenahealth, how it was changing her, and changing women everywhere, and how it made her more sexual. I remember the look she gave us… the ‘come here’ look. Nick and I were intrigued, thinking we were going to get lucky, but then the next thing we knew, she was on top of both of us at the same time, and quickly had us in head locks. She pulled us down to her crotch and there it was, her swollen clit. It was only 3” or so at that time but she pulled us in and just muttered, “Suck.” I couldn’t believe her strength but there was also something I couldn’t control about the experience. Pheremones? The drug? Nick and I both started licking her at the same time. She pushed our heads together and said, “Kiss, my sluts.”

After that night, we became her ‘boys’ and weren’t allowed to be with anyone but her. That was a few months ago and we’ve gone from being her ‘boys’ to being her ‘girls’ and she fucks us at the same time. She proposed to us both at the same time, “You’ll live together like my good girls, take care of me, and support one another.” She didn’t ask, she told us. Nick and I are now her sisterwives and we just want to please Daddy Stacey.

So Big

I just can’t believe the changes. My wife was never particularly fit, but in a matter of months she has become a titan of a woman. This drug is amazing… She is so thick, so tall, so strong. I can climb on her back and she can walk around the house. She can lift my body with one hand. And her cock… I want it all the time. I call it her cock because that’s what it is. It’s 9”, thick, and so … fucking … hot. I can’t believe I’m writing this. I’ve never wanted to be with a man, but there’s something different. She’s still a woman, but more of an … an amazon. I feel like her slave, her girl, her worshipper. And I love it. My little clit is so tiny and feminine next to her. Honestly, I don’t know if it’s the drug or what, but my happy place is to be her little spoon with her monster cock stuffed deep inside me. Please fuck me again…

I read and read, scrolling through the stories of countless men feminized by the increasingly-muscular and dominant women in their lives. And as I read, my nipples got hard, my clit was swelling and I began to touch myself. It was a strange mix of pleasure and sex to massage my tits, to pull my nipples, and to rub my boyclit. One post in particular caught my attention and I found myself masturbating to the scene described…

My Harem

I was running through a group of bois that I’d met on dating apps. One by one, I revealed to them, my new girlcock and broke them with it. I was addicted to the experience, that look of surprise on their faces, the look of fear, the lick of their lips, and the obvious arousal. First they’d resist, then they’d accept, and soon they’d be on their knees, taking me in their mouths, begging me to fuck them. One by one, they were all the same.

Finally, I decided, it was time to bring my bois together. I invited them all over, without them knowing about the others, and introduced them to one another. Some tried to run but I stopped them and brought them all into the bedroom. “You’re all my girls now. No need to get upset, no need to compete. I need you all to dedicate yourselves to servicing me.” As a sign of their submission, I made them get on their knees, kiss each other, and suck me together. Their four tongues, fighting for position to lubricate my cock and drink me in. That day they drank my cum off one another’s faces and now spend their days trying to please me to be my ‘first girl’. I can’t wait to add more boigirls to my harem…

I was fixated on the size of her biceps, the thickness of her cock, the look of fear and admiration in the men’s eyes and her words… her description of how she conquered them, broke them, made them into her girls…

My nipples were like two elongated erasers and my boiclit was rock hard. I was lost in a haze of lust, pulling my nipples as I stroked my penis, moaning and revelling in stories of submission and desire. I was shocked out of my reverie when I heard Karen clear her throat, “Ahem….”

I immediately turned to her, my heart pounding, my face red and my tits and clit hanging open. She was standing in the doorway, topless, except for her with a wry smile on her face, looking down at me. She looked at me with a firm gaze, unzipped her pants and slid her thick cock out.

I audibly inhaled as I watched her pull out her cock.

“I don’t want to interrupt, sweetie. Keep doing what you’re doing…”

I was shocked and embarrassed, “Karen, I didn’t…”

“Shhhh, it’s OK.” She walked over and put one hand on my ass and another on my breast. With seemingly no effort, she lifted me out of the chair and held me to her powerful body. Her body was swelling in so many ways: becoming bigger and more powerful all the time. Her breasts were as large as my head and her cock was as thick as my feminized forearms. Her body felt like warm iron against my yielding, girly flesh. A wave of desire flooded through me – I felt like putty in her powerful hands. The combination of her large breasts and her thick muscles, and my knowledge that her massive girlcock was hanging between her legs, brought me to the edge of desire.

She lifted me like I was a baby and placed her tit to her mouth before pulling the nipple into her mouth, licking it and biting it gently. I moaned in absolute lust, the feeling of sexual burning in my loins and in my tits. I went limp in her powerful arms and only mustered enough energy to let my willing legs part and beg for her to fuck me like a doll and tear me apart with her masterful cock.

Hanging in the air, in her powerful arms, I looked up at her. Her muscular body was glowing and had a shimmer of sweat. She had gotten even stronger and her breasts had swollen too. Her abs were tight and defined and her biceps had gotten thicker. I looked up at her thinking she was more of a man than I had ever been. More of a woman. The old rules of gender and had fallen away, she was an alpha, muscular, dominant goddess and I was her willing servant. I salivated as my boiclit thickened – I wanted only to drink her cum.

“Look how sexy you’ve become, my little sissy. You have real tits now. You’re a real girl.”

My head lolled back with desire and she licked my nipple again.

“Look at you, my sweet little girl, so weak, so obedient, just like a good wife should be,” she said, her voice thick with desire. I could feel my own cock begging for her to touch it.

“Do you want me to fuck you, sweetie? To fuck you with my cock?”

“Mmmmm Yessss pleaaaase.” I said in a lengthy moan. “Please fuck me Karen.”

I could feel her engorged cock against my ass. It felt like a thick arm, pressing harder and harder against my fleshy bottom – I reached down and grasped it with my thin hands. She had gotten so big, I could barely wrap my fingers around it.

She spoke in a deep, low voice, “Feel it, sissy. Feel my cock. That’s what a real cock feels like.”

“Mmmmm yes Karen… You’re so big. You’re such a man.” I started rubbing my cock against her body, trying to pleasure myself against her cut muscles.

“You’ve made me your girl, Karen. I’m so weak and so small compared to you. Please fuck me again and make me more of a girl.”

“I want to cum on you. I want to cover you in my seed,” she said, her voice getting deeper.

She threw me onto the bed and I got on all fours, sticking my ass in the air and inviting her towards me.

“Beg me, girl.” She said.

I looked back at her, she was a vision of amazonian, female masculinity. Her powerful tits, her swollen biceps, her thick veins, and the monstrous cock that promised to split me in two.

I grabbed a tit with one hand, and manipulated the nipple and I spoke to her in a girlish voice. “Please Daddy… please fuck me. I’ve given all my masculinity to you… you took it from me because you’re better than me, stronger, more powerful. I just want you inside me, to own me forever. I’m your little cow begging to be bred. Please fill me with your cum. I want to drink your powerful, alpha cum. Please do it Daddy Karen…”

Her eyes were thick with lust… "Do you want me to breed you? To make you my broodmare?"

I nodded, unable to speak. My mouth was slack with desire and humiliation.

It was as if she had unlocked a part of me I didn't even know existed.

"Beg me to breed you," she ordered, stroking her still-hard clit. "Ask me to fill you with my sperm and breed your boi pussy.”

Without hesitation, I replied, "Please, Karen, breed me. Make me your girl. I want to live off your sperm. I want to feel your baby growing inside me."

Her smile grew wider, and she leaned down to kiss me again, her tongue invading my mouth with the same aggression she had used to claim my body. She tasted of sweat and power, and I couldn't get enough.

She spat onto her cock and rubbed it up and down. As she did so, I stuck my fingers in my mouth, covered them in saliva and then moistened my asshole her for. I opened it as wide as I could, a flower waiting to be taken. I felt the head of her cock pressed against my hole and I bit my lip slightly as she eased her lubricated cock into me. She stopped halfway and I moaned.

"What's that?" she asked, her voice mocking. "Do you want more?"

"Yes, please," I begged. "I need more of your cock."

“Can you take the whole thing my slut?”

“Yes, please, Daddy. Please.”

The thought of being filled with her cum again, of feeling it slosh in my stomach, of drinking her down, of being abused by her, was almost too much... My body writhed beneath her and I pushed my ass towards her cock, taking more of her in me. She began to fuck me again, her powerful hips moving in a rhythm that was all too familiar now.

And as she pounded into me, she pulled my wrists behind my body and was holding me in place. I could feel her strength, holding my torso in the air, her cock inside me like an iron rod, pressing into my stomach. My eyes watered with lust and she fucked me mercilessly.

I knew that I had found my place in the world. I was her girl, her plaything, her possession, and I was complete. The pleasure was unlike anything I had ever felt, a mix of pain and humiliation and love that only made me want more.

Incredibly, I could feel her thickening even more inside me and I felt like she was going to split me in two. Her cock was driving deep into me and in my mind I imagined it pushing my organs aside, pressing up into my chest. I wanted it bigger, longer, more… I wanted her to fuck me from both ends. Her powerful thighs slammed into my gentle, yielding legs and I almost came with the sensation of her muscles flexing against me.

Suddenly, she reached down and began furiously masturbating my boiclit. I could tell she was about to cum because her cock was like an iron rod inside me and she was slamming her pelvis into my ass with intense fury. She masturbated my clit so hard I thought she might pull it off but in no time I was screaming with lust as the orgasm washed over me and she came at the same time. I felt her shoot her hot seed into me, it was a wave of her cum and I could feel it entering my body.

As she came again, filling me with her hot, sticky seed, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. This was what I was meant to be, her little sissy, her girl, her obedient cow. And as she pulled out and leaned over to kiss me, I knew that I would do anything she asked, no matter how degrading or depraved, because she was my master now, and I was utterly devoted to her.

We lay together in a pile on the bed, panting with lust and desire and exhaustion before Karen rolled over and kissed me deeply on the mouth.

“That was amazing, baby. You’re such a sexy girl.”

I looked at her with admiration and love, “Thank you.”

“By the way, while you were out, I bought you something. Go try it on.”

I looked at her and touched her powerful bicep gently, “Now?”

“Yes, now. Say thank you daddy, and go put it on.”

I looked into her eyes and said, “Thank you Daddy” and slid off the bed and picked up the bag she had brought home. I walked into the washroom.

It was a maid’s outfit. I was too drunk with sex to even think about asking her what it was about or why she wanted me to wear it.

I pulled on the tights, the costume and the hat before noticing that there was also lipstick in the bag. I applied it and checked my appearance before returning to the bathroom.

I tiptoed into the room before saying, “Bonjour, Master. I am ready for you…”

Karen looked at me with a smile before shuffling to the side of the bed. Somehow she was already erect again and she pointed her monstrous cock at me.

“A maid’s first duty is to take care of her master.”

I knew what to do. I slunk to my knees and looked up at her with submissive, doe eyes. I licked my red lips. I kissed the tip. I looked up at her again and said, “Thank you, Master.”

I took her in my mouth and serviced her like the sweet girl I am.

Learning Curves Part 1 (Images)

Kara was younger than me by two and a half years and had always been something of the younger girl next door or kid sister. She was a little bit of a tomboy and but was noticeable because of her forceful personality and her shock of messy red hair. We were neighbors and despite the age difference between us, we ended up talking quite a lot. I was a little bit bookish and shy whereas she was outgoing and curious about the world so when we were growing up, she would always want to hang out with me, ask about the things I was doing, and generally tag along. At times it might’ve been a little bit annoying but mostly I didn’t mind. When I would sit in the backyard and read, one of my favorite hobbies, Kara would always ask about the book I was reading and ask for a summary of the plot, ask why I liked it, ask which character was my favorite, and so on. I was a bit of a loner and didn’t have tons of friends – so I kind of liked the attention she gave me.

I got used to having Kara around but as she got older I saw less and less of her. When she became a teenager she started hanging out with a group of friends and didn’t have as much interest in me and the things I was doing. I’d see her from time to time but our conversations turned into short “hi” and “bye” as I gradually lost track of her.

The year after high school I felt a little bit directionless. I was working a dead end job at a grocery store and hadn’t decided on any path after high school. I saw Kara once when she was shopping with her Mom and was surprised at how much she was growing up. She was still 16 but was getting taller and becoming more and more of an adult. I didn’t see much of her then – just a glimpse – but she looked like she was becoming a young woman.

A year passed and then another and I was just kind of sleepwalking through life. I played video games, read books, and watched movies but not much else. It’s not that I didn’t want to do anything different, I just didn’t know what that would be. Time seemed to pass in a bit of a blur and it wasn’t long before I was nearly 20, was more than two and a half years out of high school, and was facing down another year working at the grocery store.

It was that summer, two years after finishing high school, that I saw Kara again for the first time in ages. I’d heard that she had spent the summer working a job tree planting and I knew she was due to be back for a week at the end of the summer before going off to university herself. It was late in the summer and I had the day off so I planned to go out back and read. I was about to sit down in the lawn chair when I heard the sound of someone next door, grappling with wood, picking it up and carrying it. I turned to my neighbor’s backyard to see who it was.

As I looked over the fence, I saw a large presence: it was unmistakably Kara but the difference between her now and how she used to be was incredible. Gone was the scrawny girl next door or even the slim teenager from a few years back and instead was a tall, almost amazonian young woman. She was turned away from me, standing in red shorts and a tank top and I could see, over the fence, that she had grown a lot since the beginning of the year.

Her body looked thick and strong, still feminine but with a wide back, tapering down to a thin waist. She was walking away from me and I could see the muscles in her back moving as she strode across the backyard with the pile of wood in her arms. Her black tank top must have been old because the thin straps were straining against the size of her back and the roundness of her shoulders. Her neck was feminine yet long and had veins indicating her strength and as my eyes moved down I saw her legs which were thick and sturdy. Her messy hair had been replaced by long, attractive mane of bright red. I could also tell, from my vantage, that she was taller than me by at least 4 or 5 inches.

I had always been attracted to sexy muscular women – I had gone on sites like Diana The Valkyrie and fantasized over what it would be like to be with a strong, attractive woman. Now there was a woman like that living next door!

I think I was lost in my thoughts a little and I must have audibly gasped as I took in her image  because she turned around and looked at me. Her skin was a deep, warm tan from the hours under the sun, and she had the kind of glow that comes from hard work outdoors. Her green eyes sparkled with an energy I hadn’t seen in them before. It took a second for her to realize it was me and then she smiled. Our eyes met and she asked, “Mike, is that you?” she called out, her voice a little deeper than I remembered. “Great to see you! How are you?”

I was silent for a second, staring at her. I saw the taut muscles in her forearms bulging as she held the large pile of wood. She stood there comfortably, casually holding more weight than I could have ever managed. Finally, I spoke, “Hey, Kara. How are you? I’m good.”

She smiled even wider, “I’m great, Mike. Are you free? Wanna come over for a sec?”

“Sure,” I said, and I walked around our fence and entered her backyard.

Her muscular body was even more impressive up close. As I walked up to her I could see her piling the logs next to the fire pit and with each one her triceps and biceps popped. Her biceps were taut and wiry – she looked amazingly strong. Her muscles didn’t burst from her arms – they just looked tight and thick. The muscles in her legs were even more impressive: my eyes lingered over her thick thighs bursting with strength.

I came up to her and she turned to me and smiled, standing upright. I couldn’t believe how tall she was. I only came up to her chin – she had to be 6’1 or 6’2. I felt absolutely cowed in her presence and turned on by my proximity to this young goddess. She smiled and said “Great to see you!” as she threw her arms around me in a hug that was surprisingly strong, and I felt a pang of nostalgia for the days when she had looked up to me, both literally and figuratively. I felt the power in her embrace and was positively crushed against her strong body. My face was pulled into her shoulder and her breasts pressed against my upper body – they were not huge but firm and I felt them as she pulled me into her embrace.

Standing in front of her, she smiled down on me with genuine affection. I couldn’t help but feel a mix of happiness in seeing her, arousal in her transformation, and a strange desire to feel the difference between us. This younger girl stood a full head taller than me and was clearly stronger than me in every way. She exuded power and strength and I was somewhat in awe of her presence. From out of nowhere I’d been confronted with this young goddess but her transformation was more than just physical; there was a maturity and grace about her that hadn’t been there before. Even her voice was deeper and more authoritative than I remembered. The awkwardness of her teenage years had been replaced by a poise and confidence that made her seem years beyond her age.

We stood there and chatted for a while and she told me all about her experience tree planting, the friends she made, and how much it had helped her mature and learn about herself. The contrast between her maturity and my stuntedness really struck home: she had a new wisdom and understanding of the world that I was taking in. I found myself captivated by her, not just by her newfound beauty, but by the strength and resilience she exuded. Her hands were calloused, and there was a sense of purpose in her every movement that was incredibly alluring. Her strength, her height, her intelligence: I felt like a small flower taking in the sun’s radiance.

At some point I stammered about how shocked I was that she had grown so much. “Your muscles… it’s pretty impressive.” She smiled at me, “Well, tree planting will do that. Also, there were a couple of assholes up there who thought they would go up there and boss the women around and fuck anything that moved.” She flexed her arm, showing a bicep the size of a grapefruit, and said, “I showed them pretty fast that I wasn’t going to put up with that.”

I must have stared at the bicep a little too long and I definitely felt myself getting turned on by this display of raw, female power. To break the awkward silence she asked what I was up to but I was a little embarrassed but didn’t have much to say. She nodded and demonstrated understanding. “You know, sometimes people just need the right push to get to where they belong, to figure out who they are” she said with a smile.

As she spoke, I kept thinking about the way the muscles in her arms flexed and her broad shoulders squared. I don’t know if it was the power of her presence or just that what she saying was true, but I found myself agreeing with her.

“You know, Mike. The school I’m going to still accepts applications. Your grades were good and you could probably get into a program.”

I thought about it and replied, “Well, I think it’s too late for this year. Besides, where would I live?”

She put a consoling hand on my shoulder and I was struck by the size of it. Her palm covered my shoulder completely and I could feel the strength in her hand even as she touched me gently.

“It’s never too late, Mike! That’s just your negative ideation – you have to fight against that! Is university something you’ve wanted to do?”

“Well, sure. I just never quite decided to actually do it.”

“Why not now? You could go this year.” I could hear the enthusiasm building in her voice: “You could actually live with me if you wanted. I have a two bedroom apartment and haven’t found a roommate yet.”

I was taken aback by her proposal. We had always been friendly, but the idea of living together was something entirely new although I was surprised at how naturally we’d reconnected. On the one hand, I’d be roommates with this young goddess, on the other hand…  I felt a mix of excitement and fear bubbling up inside me. Could I handle living with her?

"I know it’s a big deal, and I totally understand if you don’t want to," she added quickly, noticing my hesitation. "But I think it would be amazing. We could support each other, keep each other company, and maybe even learn a thing or two from each other. It’d be fun!"

Her eyes searched mine for a reaction, and I knew she was sincere. Despite the intimidation, I couldn’t deny the thrill of the idea. To be around someone so vibrant and full of life on a daily basis was tempting. Plus, the thought of sharing living spaces with someone so hot was not entirely unwelcome.

I took an incredible leap that surprised even me: "Okay," I said finally, my voice a little shakier than I’d liked. "Let’s do it."

Kara’s smile was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. She threw her arms around me again, her embrace enveloping and powerful. "That’s so great, Mike! You’re going to love university! Oh I can’t wait. This is the first day in the rest of your life.”

As we pulled apart, I felt a new kind of connection between us, something deeper than friendship. I wasn’t quite sure what it was, but I knew it was significant.

The rest of the summer passed in a blur of planning and preparation. I applied for, and got into, a general Arts program. Through it all, I couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by the prospect of living with Kara. She was so self-assured, so driven and in a matter of weeks she’d helped me get my life back on track.

But every time I expressed my doubts, she’d just laugh and reassure me. "You’re perfect just the way you are, Alex," she’d say. "And I know you’ll do great in school. We’ll be a team."

As the summer drew to a close, we packed up her things and loaded them into her parent’s car. The day of our move-in was bittersweet, filled with excitement for the future and nostalgia for the past. But as we stood in the doorway of our new apartment, keys in hand, I knew that this was the start of a new chapter in our lives.

Things started well and she high fived me on the first day of class. I went off in my jeans and a t-shirt and she came out of her bedroom in a tennis skirt that showed off her powerful legs. It was kind of incredible living with this young amazon and I got used to seeing her powerful body moving around the apartment.

I went to class on my first day, took notes, listened to the lecture, and things were going well… for a while. After about a week I skipped one class, then another, then another. Kara noticed but wasn’t as home as much as me: she was in all of her classes, going to the gym, and participating in clubs.

One day in the first month of class I woke up late and decided, instead of going to class, that I would just stay home and play video games. I lost track of time and the next thing I knew, Kara had come home. She came to my room and looked at me with a mixed look of frustration and anger. Standing there in her yoga pants and workout top, she looked fit and attractive but also frustrated.

“Are you just going to sit here playing games all day?”

I stared up at her, blinked and began to speak before she burst into my room.

“Enough!” she shouted and literally picked up my computer and took it off my desk.

“Hey! That’s mine.” I stood up and moved towards her but she had already walked out of the room with my laptop in her hands.

She walked into the hall and I put a hand on her shoulder. She turned around and I suddenly felt aware, in the confines of the hallway, just how much taller she was than me. She was wearing boots with a slight heel and I didn’t even come up to her chin.

“No more computer! You can’t handle it so I’m taking it away.” She said with a hint of fury in her eyes.

“Taking it away!? You can’t! That’s mine. Give it back to me.” I replied.

“No. You’re addicted to these games. I’m taking it and that’s final.”

“Kara, you can’t just take it.”

She inched closer to me so that her breasts were almost in my face and looked down, “Can’t I?” Her body was so immense and powerful: I felt tiny in her presence. Somewhere inside this powerful and impressive woman was the young girl who had followed me around seeking my approval but now the roles were totally reversed. I was small, weak, and, if I was honest, afraid. I felt immediately intimidated and aroused as I looked up at her.

We were silent for a beat and then I craned my neck to look up at her. “Please, Kara.”

There was something weak and pleading in my voice that, I know, spoke to both of us that moment. The pattern had been established. She took my possession, I asked her for it back and she refused. I swear I saw her smirk ever so slightly when I asked.

She exhaled. “No, Mike. This is for your own good.” She stepped back a foot. “I see how you’re letting this opportunity slip away and I won’t let you do it. You need to focus on your work and not play these games. Until you can show me that you have some discipline, I’m keeping this computer.”

I tried to protest but she simply turned on her heel and walked to her room where she put the laptop on her desk. She then came back into the hallway, “From now on your computer and TV time is restricted. You have to ask me if you want to use those things. Otherwise, focus on your studies.” With that she went into her room and shut the door.

I was astounded. On the one hand, she had just taken something that belongs to me and she had no right. On the other hand, she was right. I knew she was right. I was wasting my time and I did need to stop playing games and get serious about school.

I also thought about the dynamic that had been established in the hallway. I felt like a kid being disciplined by a parent or older sibling – her height, her strength, her alpha presence were all intoxicating and arousing. This younger girl was commanding me in how to behave and what to do and there was a deep part of my psyche that wanted to obey her. So I did.

I sat down at my desk and pulled out my work from the previous class and began to do the readings. Time flew by and before I knew it I was completing the readings and my work – it felt great to actually get this work done. I decided to treat myself with a snack so went to the kitchen where I found Kara.

She looked at me with a gentle smile: “Look, I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I just…” she paused, “I just don’t want you to blow this chance.”

I thought for a second before replying, “No, you’re right. I was wasting my time and actually it kinda felt good to just do my work.”

She looked up at me and her smile widened, “I’m so glad to hear that. You know, I really just want what’s best for you, for you to succeed. Sometimes, we just need help getting out of old patterns.”

“I know, Kara. You’re totally right.”

“That’s what I like to hear! Now, tell me about your day.”

We sat down at the table together and chatted about how the day had went and eventually we talked about what had happened. She put her hand over mine, “Mike, I don’t want to be in a fight, it’s just – I really want you to succeed, to not get distracted.”

“I agree Kara. I want to succeed too.”

She smiled again and squeezed my hand gently, “I can help you. We can figure out a plan that will ensure you succeed.”

The transformation that happened when Kara took my computer away was incredible. Suddenly, I had no desire to play games for hours, look at porn online, or generally waste time. Instead, I felt myself inclined to study, go to class, and be a good student. Everything was going so well until things changed later that week.

It was Thursday night and I was cleaning up the kitchen when Kara called to me from her room, asking, “Mike, what’s this?”

I went to her room and saw that she had my computer open and she was looking at my web browser – I hadn’t had a chance to close it before she took the computer and it was showing a porn website that I was looking at. The heading said “Dominate Local Girls” and the image matched the headline.

“That’s private!” I shouted and reached for the computer.

She grabbed my hand and pushed me aside before looking at me coolly, “This is pretty disturbing, Mike.”

I averted my eyes and looked down at the floor, “It’s just…”

“It’s just, what? … This is pretty misogynist. Is this how you think women should be treated? Dominated? You’re like the guys I had to deal with while tree planting?”

I looked at her, “No, no… I just… I just clicked it. I don’t know. That’s not what I like?”

“If it’s not what you like, then why is it on your computer?”

“It just… it popped up. That’s not who I am.”

She looked at me sternly and said, “I was about to return your computer for the evening as a reward for your good work but now…” she looked back at the screen and then back at me. I saw her face change as a thought crossed her mind.

She stood up and crossed her arms over her chest -- she looked intimidating, towering over me. Her legs were thick and tanned and the muscles in her forearms expanded as she looked down at me.

She inhaled, sizing me up, and then spoke: “Is that what you’d like to do, Mike? Dominate girls? Dominate me?”

“No! I promise.” I looked up at her pleadingly. “I’m the opposite, I—” I stopped as I realized what I was saying.

She raised her eyebrows. “The opposite? How?” she asked.

“I… I just mean….” I stammered. “This isn’t me.” I gestured towards the screen.

“So you don’t want to dominate women?”

“No, and really Kara… this isn’t your business.”

“Yes it is Mike. You’re living with me. I want to understand who I’m living with” she said forcefully.

She paused for a moment and then continued. “OK, if this isn’t you, then let me see what you really like.” She sat at the computer and opened up my history. I was panicking.

“Please, Kara, don’t.”

She held a hand up to stop me. “Stop, or I’ll get really angry.”

The websites came up in rapid succession. TheValkyrie, Fictionmania, Literotica, … all the stories I’d read of powerful women taking control of weak, submissive men. Images of tall women with muscles, images of women holding weak men in their arms, images of gender reversal. All my private fantasies laid bare before her.

She browsed through them and then looked up at me, “So… this is what you like?”

I was red in the face and embarrassed. I could barely speak. “Please… Kara… don’t tell anyone.”

She looked at me and smiled. “Mike… it’s OK. This is… different… but it’s fine. In a way, it’s good.”

“G—good?”

“Yes. I was worried you were some kind of complete asshole, a small man with fantasies of dominating and being violent towards women. Controlling us. Telling us what to do.” She stood up, so much taller than me once again. “It turns out you’re a small man who wants to be dominated, who loves the feeling of being small next to a powerful woman.” She smiled.

“I can understand, Mike. You’ve lived in the shadow of women your whole life. I remember seeing you a few years ago and being amazed at how small you were, how weak you looked.”

I looked up at her and my heart was racing with arousal. She assessed me again before continuing.

“Sometimes I forget that you’re older than me. I feel like I have to keep giving you direction, helping you fulfill your potential. You just seem so… lost without me. I guess it’s understandable that you’d feel attracted to aggressive women. In a sense, it’s right – you’ve been smaller than me, and most other women, for so long.”

She pulled the sleeves of her shirt up revealing her thick, powerful arms and proceeded to flex her muscles in front of me. I looked at the powerful biceps that popped from her arms above my head. Her muscles were incredible and powerful. I felt so turned on.

“How does that make you feel, Michael?”

“Good,” I said weakly as I panted with desire… “Small.”

She smiled and said, “Yes, they’re the same thing for you, aren’t they: feeling good and small … Go ahead, feel them.”

I reached up and placed my hands on her arms. Her muscles were incredible. I was getting erect standing there.

“See the difference between us Michael? You’re small and weak, I’m big and strong. It’s not just genetics, sweetie – it’s that I’ve pushed for everything I have while you’ve passively waited for someone to push you. No one would believe that you’re two years older than me. Anyone would guess that you’re my younger brother. You’re here at this school because I’m making you go. You clearly need someone like me to be in charge, to keep you in line. Don’t you, Michael?”

“Y--- yes…” I said softly. My cock was hard with arousal and head was swimming with desire, lust and a slight feeling of humiliation.

She smiled and me and rolled her sleeve back down. “That’s good, Michael. I want you to understand that you shouldn’t feel embarrassed about any of this: you find tall, dominant, muscular women attractive. That isn’t surprising given your stature and your temperament: you’re obedient and pliant. That’s a good thing. Your sexuality is your business and I don’t think you should be ashamed. If anything, you should enjoy it – live your truth!”

I was still red in the face from the mix of humiliation and arousal but manage to stammer out “Th-thanks, Kara.”

She laughed and said, “To be honest, I’m also just glad that I’m not living with some closet chauvinist. Now, I need to get back to work. You can clean the kitchen tonight, OK?” She paused, “Or do you need me to ‘make’ you clean it?”

My heart skipped a beat – I couldn’t tell if she was joking or being serious. “No, no. Kara. I’ll do it.”

“Good boy” she said with a wink.

“But, do I still get my computer back?”

“No, Michael. I want to read more about your fantasies. Now get to it – I want the kitchen sparkling clean.”

I turned away from her and walked into the kitchen, completely blown away by what had just happened. All of my secret desires had just been exposed by this girl who I was living with, this girl who was the embodiment of my deepest fantasies. I was humiliated, aroused, scared, and wondering what might happen next. I didn’t have to wait long to find out.

Kara came into the kitchen after about half an hour, walking towards me with a slight smile.

“Wow, Michael, you’ve done a great job,” she said as she ran her finger along the clean counter. I had scrubbed the kitchen top to bottom. “Thank you so much”

I looked up at her, “You’re welcome.”

“See, I knew you could be great at this. You just need someone to push you in the right direction.”

She came closer to me so that I could feel the heat emanating from her body.

“I was reading some of the stories that you read and I can see that you like to be pushed. That you want someone to push you around a little.”

“Kara, those are just fantasies.”

“Well there’s a little truth behind every fantasy, Michael. Besides, I get it. It makes sense to me. In a way, I kind of have similar feelings.”

“You do?”

“Well, not the exact same, but they kind of match up. I think what infuriated me about seeing the ‘dominate girls’ thing was that, that’s kind of how I feel. I’ve been the little girl that people want to control and dominate. I’ve lived my whole life hearing how men talk about women, as someone to be controlled, to be conquered. I never want to be weak and soft like that. I want to be the one in control.” She looked directly at me, waiting for me to respond. I stayed silent.

“Maybe, we have more in common then we realize. Maybe my desire to dominate, and your desire to be dominated, could make a good pair. That our interests match. Maybe what we’re discovering is that you need me more than you knew.”

My heart was racing… where was she going with this?

“Face it, Michael. You wouldn’t be in school if it weren’t for me and you wouldn’t be doing well in your classes if it weren’t for me. You need a firm hand to guide you.” She placed her finger under my chin and raised it to look at her.

“There’s new research today that suggests men are falling behind women in a number of ways. Women are getting taller while men have plateaued, women are earning more, women are getting degrees in a higher rate, women are going to the gym more, getting stronger. Some researchers see the recent slide in men’s ability to participate and perform in the world – their general failure across a number of markers – as a kind of recognition of their new subordinate status. They see women beating them and so they refuse to compete.”

I was silent and was lost in the power of her words.

“I saw it with the guys I worked with this summer. Once they saw that I could beat them, that I was the alpha, they wanted my approval, they fell in line. It was like they gave up their masculine ways to become much sweeter versions of themselves. Maybe that’s what’s been happening to you. Maybe your best path to success is to lean into your desire to be dominated. To have a powerful woman like me help you realize your success. Do you want to find out?”

I was breathless and said, softly, “Yes.”

She smiled. “Good. Then come with me.”

We walked into her room together and laid out on the bed were 8 pairs of pink panties. She had read the feminization stories in my history. She held a pair out to me:

“Go ahead, Michael. Put them on.”

“But… I don’t know…”

“This is important, Michael. It’s a symbol. A symbol of your acceptance of me as being in control, a rejection of the masculinity that has failed you, a rejection of the toxicity of masculinity and an acceptance of yourself as a new, willingly weaker self, living under my guidance.”

She continued, “Remember how my muscles make you feel? Small and good? Think of how small, how weak, how good this will make you feel.”

I looked at her, her strength, her power, her confidence. I knew she was right.

 “I want you to try this. Enough repression, enough hiding. Try just being a little bit weaker, a little bit more submissive in the household. Let’s see how this helps you be your true self.”

There was part of me that wanted to resist, to refuse, to hold on to my male self. And there was another part of me that wanted to thank her, to accept, to become what she wanted.

“It’s an experiment for both of us Michael. You be weaker and I’ll be more in charge. I’ll help you make decisions, guide you, and try to ensure you don’t go back to your old ways. You’ll help me, support me, play the role of a supportive girl, thank me for taking care of you.”

My chest was heaving. This was a fantasy come to life and I wasn’t sure if I really wanted it but my body knew what it wanted.

She leaned in and whispered in my ear, “What do you say, Michelle?”

“Yes…” I whispered back.

RegenaHealth User Forum Posts

She had only been taking the drug for about a month when her growth started. In a few weeks she was significantly taller than me and in another month she was a foot taller. Her thighs were as wide as my body and her breasts were as swollen as her thick biceps. That night, as I knelt between her powerful legs, ready for her to take me, I felt like she was becoming more and more of a goddess...

After her workouts, she wants me to lick her everywhere and worship her muscles. Her entire body is like iron and I can't help myself -- I want her so badly. She used to be fit, but small, even demure. That woman is gone and now I live with a domineering, amazonian woman. And her clit... that swollen clit... I'm salivating even now.

She was always bigger than me... but not like this. A few inches, sure, but now she's at least a foot taller... and wider... and stronger.. And her breasts.... swollen, full.... I wanted to suck them all the time -- I find myself staring at them. She caught me, and knew what was on my mind, and now she insists on 'feeding time' twice a day. I've been drinking from her and, I think it's changing me. She's less my wife and more my... goddess... owner.... my everything.

Charlie's Angels Chapters 1 - 3

Alex was an average teenager, although definite

Welcome

Charlie's Angels Part 5

The next day, as he sat in the kitchen, the phone rang and Charlie told him to get it. "That's someone who wants to speak to you."

Alex was confused -- how did Charlie know who was on the phone? He moved to the line and picked it up.

"Hello?" he said tentatively.

"Hello, Alex," came a deep, velvety voice on the other end. "This is Allie." It was a woman but she had quite a deep voice and Alex felt intimidated and his heart jump in his chest. He had never heard of this person before.

"How do you know my name?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"Charlie told me about you. She thinks you need some help training to be a good girl," the voice said with a hint of amusement.

Alex looked up at Charlie with surprise, she nodded with a gentle smile on her face. His cheeks burned with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

“Who… who are you?” Alex asked, weakly.

“Don’t you listen? I told you my name is Allie.” Said the voice. “You need to learn to listen when I speak. Do you understand?”

He replied quietly, “Yes.”

She barked at him aggressively, “I expect you to address me as Ms. Allie. Do you understand?”

He was scared and nervous… “Yes… Yes, Ms. Allie.”

"Good girl. I’m going to come over to your place tonight" Allie continued. "I'm going to teach you how to be gentle, soft, and weak like the pretty little girl you are."

"But, I don't know you," Alex protested weakly.

“We’ll get to know each other soon,” Allie replied.

“We will?” asked Alex.

“Yes. Be ready. I don’t want to be kept waiting” said Allie and with that she hung up the phone.

Alex looked to Charlie for an explanation but Charlie wouldn’t say much other than Allie was a friend who was going to help Alex learn to be a good girl.

Alex spent the rest of the day wondering who Allie was and was feeling nervous about meeting her and learning from her.

That afternoon he asked Charlie, “What does Allie want me to do?” but she didn’t reply.

“What does she want me to wear?”

Charlie was working on some homework when Alex asked, “She told me to be ready but didn’t say when she was coming.”

Charlie replied casually, “Well then you should be ready for whenever she comes.”

He was nervous, scared of this intimidating figure. He asked, “What should I wear when she comes over?”

Charlie didn’t even look up but just said, “What do you think you should wear? What would make Allie happy?”

Alex thought about it, about the deep voice on the phone that still made his stomach flutter. That deep voice that had taken charge so easily, that had sensed his inner weakness. He pictured a taller, older woman who would bring him to heel. Powerful muscles, a dominant woman bringing him to heel. His stomach fluttered again. She would expect total submission.

He decided that he would put on a short plaid skirt, white socks, mary janes, and a pink blouse. His legs were already shaven and smooth. He picked a soft yellow pair of panties and as he was sliding the skirt up his legs he wondered about Allie. The voice scared and intrigued him and he pictured a large woman in her 20s or even 30s, masculine but still feminine, bearing down on him with a piercing gaze. His heart was beating heavily as he imagined her.

He decided that he wanted to make Allie happy, to give her no reason to be upset with him. So he did his best with his makeup to give himself a feminine appearance – lip gloss, mascara. He put on a short blonde wig that was left over from a Halloween a few years ago. Eyeing himself in the mirror, he looked like a young girl, innocent and gentle. A stranger would’ve had to look at him very closely to realize that underneath the girlish appearance, was a young man.

Charlie stepped into the bathroom doorway as he was adjusting the wig on his head and smiled. “Oh, sweetie. You’re such a good learner.”

He was equal parts humiliated and happy as he sought her approval. “Thanks, Charlie.”

She looked down at him, “Why don’t you say it again but in your girlier voice.”

He blushed but complied and spoke in a slight, whispering, feminine voice, “Thank you, Charlie.”

“That’s a good girl.”

It was around 4:30 when he heard a heavy knock at the door. He put his head into the kitchen and looked at Charlie who looked up from her work.

“Well, you better get the door. You don’t want to keep her waiting.”

He moved to the door nervously and opened it, his heart racing.

He saw a young woman standing on the doorway, she looked strong, with large shoulders are thick proportions. Although not nearly as muscular as Charlie, she was strong all the same. She appeared to be eye level with Alex until she stepped into the house and he realized she was taller than him by a few good inches. She had short blonde hair and was wearing a black t-shirt and black jeans. He could see the thickness in her arms as she came into the house. He guessed she must have been 5’8 to his 5’4, but looked much bigger and stronger.

“Hi, Allie, thanks for coming,” Said Charlie. She had walked into the hallway and was standing behind Alex. She reached for Allie and pulled her into a hug, brushing against her brother as she did so.

Allie smiled and then looked down at Alex with slight amusement. The hallway was small and Alex felt dwarfed by these two large women. He averted his eyes gaze and looked down at Allie’s belt buckle: thick and silver. He noticed too that her legs appeared to be as big as his waist. He felt like a child standing next to two adults.

“So this is Alice. Hello sweetie,” said Allie.

“Hello,” replied Alex.

“Oh no, no. That won’t do. First, you need to use a more girly voice when you greet me. It’s good that you’re wearing a skirt, but I expect you to curtsey when you meet me. Try again.”

Alex swallowed, his heart beating heavily in his chest. He could feel his embarrassment creeping across his face in a heavy blush.

He held the corners of his skirt, looked at Allie and replied in the girlie voice that Charlie had trained him in, “Hello.”

Allie smiled down at him. “Much better. I can see you’re going to be a good student.”

She looked at Charlie, “So this is your older brother?”

Charlie smiled, “Not really. I think we’ve gotten rid of Alex and replaced him with Alice. That suits you so much better, doesn’t it Alice?”

Alice smiled and looked up at the larger girl and said, “Yes, Charlie.”

Allie placed a firm hand on Alex’s shoulder and squeezed. “When you address your sister, you should always call her Ms. Charlie.”

The squeeze was so intense and strong that Alex’s eyes began to water.

“I’m sorry,” he said in his weak voice. “I’m sorry Ms. Charlie. I’m sorry Ms. Allie”

And he instinctively curtsied to the girls.

Allie smiled and said, “That’s better,” before turning to Charlie: “I’m going to take Alice for a walk. We’ll be back shortly.”

Alex’s heart was pounding now – the humiliations were overwhelming and now she wanted him to go outside? Dressed like this?

“Come on Alice, take my arm like a good girl. We’re going to walk together. “

Alex was terrified at the idea of being outdoors but he could tell this woman would accept no arguing.

Alex took a deep breath and took her arm, feeling the strength of her bicep under the black t-shirt. His soft feminine hand couldn’t encircle her thick arm and the contrast underlined just how strong she was compared to him.

They walked out into the neighborhood, Allie’s stride was powerful and Alex had to almost run to keep up with her. The sun was setting and the air was warm. He was worried that they would run into someone he knew but they were on their own and, from afar, they just looked like two lovers, a tall, powerful masculine figure and her smaller, weaker girl. Alex felt all of this as they walked: the humiliation was intense but he didn’t dare disobey.

Allie said, “You know why I’m here. We’re going to get to know one another, Alice.”

“Yes, Ms. Allie.”

“Your sister tells me that you’re into role playing games and that you fantasize about tall muscular women.”

He blushed before answering, ‘Yes, Ms. Allie.”

“That’s good. Don’t feel ashamed. You’re very lucky having a sister like Charlie who can shape you and protect you in this way. It’s unusual that a younger sister would conquer her older brother so easily. I thought you might’ve put up more of a fight but,” and she paused, to look down at Alex, “I think you actually like it.”

He was silent – her words were humiliating but also, true. He was fighting this enforced femininity but also there was a part of him, no small part, that knew it was right.

She continued, “There’s a growing number of boys like you in the world. Boys who know they can’t lead, can’t take control, and need a woman to make their decisions for them. And lucky for you, there’s a growing number of women like me. Boys like you sense that you’ve lost power in relation to us: you see how tall girls like me are getting, the muscles we’re are building, the power we’re taking in society, and your psyche and sexuality have grown around that. You’re like how girls used to be – sensing that the other gender is stronger and more powerful and you’re adapting. Becoming good girls for powerful women. The shame you feel is just your inner boy self trying to survive. We have to silence that voice.”

He was silent but felt equal parts turned on and humiliated by her words.

“Your sister once looked up to you, you were once her idol, but she sensed something weak in you and when she pressed her advantage, when she challenged your leadership, you folded so easily. She took control and didn’t just insist on being stronger, she insisted that you give her your masculinity. She took that away and made you into the small, weak girl that you thought she was.” She paused and then said forcefully, “She’s your master.”

His heart was racing with feelings of lust and shame. Standing outside, having his situation put so plainly, he felt his cock hardening at her images.

“Just think of where we’ll be in 20 years or 50. When girls like you are married off to women like me. When boys are discouraged to go to the gym but are encouraged to wear makeup and thong panties and suck their girlfriend’s clits every night? Imagine when an operation to give a boy like you breasts or a vagina is no big deal. Imagine when you can take a pill to grow breasts and breastfeed and I can take a pill to get stronger and taller.” His heart was pounding… was she getting turned on by this too?

She paused before continuing, “That world is just around the corner, Alice.”

They walked in silence for a minute before Allie spoke to him. “How do you feel Alice? Hearing all that? Walking with me? Being outdoors in your female attire?”

He looked up at her, “Weak. And small. And... and... wrong.”

Her smile grew broader, “Good. That’s just how you should feel. You are weak, and small. You need someone to take care of you, to protect you."

Alex felt his throat tighten. “Okay,” he managed to croak out.

“But it’s not wrong, it’s right.” She continued, “It’s right for you to feel like a good little girl. That’s what you are. A man would have fought his sister, would have at least fought back. You didn’t fight back, you crawled on her lap, basically asked her to spank you and called her daddy. Are you a man, then, Alice?”

He was silent. Sex. Shame. Fear.

"Little girls need someone more powerful to protect them. So I'll be your protector and you can be the little girl. OK, Alice?"

Alice didn’t reply so Allie repeated herself, “I said, OK, Alice?”

Alice said, “I… I … OK.”

Allie stopped and turned to Alice, crossing her arms over her chest. She was bigger than him and so intimidating.

“If you aren’t going to follow my lead and do as I say, then I’ll tell everyone about you dressing as a girl. Your family, all your friends, the kids at school. Do you want that?”

“No, no.”

“Then you’ll be a good girl?”

“Yes, Ms. Allie. I promise.”

She smiled. “OK, then I want you to begin by calling me by my new name. Sir. Ask me if you can hold onto my strong arm again.”

He relented, once again, “Please, sir, may I hold onto your strong arm?”

“Yes, sweetie go ahead.”

In total debasement and humiliation he wrapped his hand around her thick arm and could feel her power and his weakness as they walked together. Despite all his intents, he was also incredibly turned on by the experience and felt his nipples hardening and his penis hard in his panties.

"That's more like it," she said, as she flexed her arm slightly, tightening, tightening it around his weak hand.

“You see, some people aren’t made for the genders that society gives them. I was born a girl, but I always knew I wasn’t a girl inside. I didn’t feel weak: I was big, strong, and I wanted other people to recognize my strength and power. I felt like a man.” She paused before continuing, “You were born with a penis, so you thought you were a man, but you’re actually a girl. Your younger sister overpowered you, dominated you and your friends, and you all call her daddy. Now you are calling me sir. So you’re really just a weak little girl. Aren’t you, Alice?”

“Yes, sir.” He said quietly and in his girlish voice. He felt intense humiliation at this conversation but he also felt his resistance melting – it felt strangely right.

“Charlie told me that she fucked the girl that you liked. Is that right?”

“Y--- yes, sir.”

“What was her name?”

“Charlene… sir.”

“And did you do anything about it?”

He was silent.

“Did you storm into the room and claim Charlene as your own? Fight off your sister?”

“No…”

“Did you at least try? Did you try to assert your possession over Charlene?”

He was silent.

“What did you do?”

“No… Nothing sir.”

“I don’t think that’s true. You didn’t do nothing. What did you do, Alice? Be honest, or you’ll be in serious trouble.”

His eyes watered… to be forced to say it aloud was a new level of abjection. “I… I watched.”

“You watched?”

“Yes… I watched … and … I masturbated.”

“You masturbated?”

“Y…yes sir.” He was on the verge of tears.

“You cowered in the corner and watched while your younger sister fucked, like a man, the girl you’d wanted for years? And it turned you on?”

“Y…yes sir.”

Allie looked down at him with a look of pity and amusement. His legs were quaking, he was so intimidated and embarrassed and being forced to confess what he had done.

“What would a man have done?”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“If a man were in that house… what would he have done?”

“I…”

The question lingered before Allie spoke. She stroked his cheek gently.

“You can’t even say it, can you, pussy?”

“If a man were in the house and a younger woman tried to take the girl he liked, he would have fought, he would have conquered his competitor, and taken his prize.”

He was silent.

“But you didn’t do that, did you pussy?”

He looked at the ground. He was going to cry. “No…”

“No. That’s what Charlie did. Charlie was the man. You hid in the corner and masturbated as you watch the alpha claim his prize.”

A tear rolled down his cheek at the deep humiliation. He also felt… aroused.

Allie continued, “Who did you want to be?”

He was confused. “I don’t…understand.”

“When you watched them. Did you want to be Charlie, with her muscles, her strength, her confidence?” She paused, “or did you want to be Charlene, weak, yielding, squirming underneath, and taking all of Charlie inside you?”

He was silent, his heart racing, his cock thick in his panties.

“Did you wish it was you taking Charlie’s cock, calling her Daddy, and being her girl?”

His mind was scrambled… how did she know all of this?

“I… I…”

“It’s ok sweetie. You just have to admit it. Did you want to be the man, fucking, or the girl getting fucked.”

“I’m not… I don’t…”

“It’s obvious, sweetie. Just say it.”

Another tear rolled down his cheek, “The girl.”

“Good girl. That’s right… You are that girl. We all see it. You’ve just taken an important first step in admitting it.”

She wiped the tear from his cheek and said, “It’s better this way, that we’re honest about who you are.” She turned on her heel and snapped at him, indicating that he follow her.

“For me, I always felt this way… that I needed to be the man, stronger, more powerful. My parents never liked it but they promised that when I turned 18, I could live how I wanted.”

“Did they keep their promise, sir?”

“They did. They said, I can do what I want. That was last month.” Allie replied.

Alice was stunned and immediately shook out of his daze of humiliation and arousal – this large, powerful woman with a deep voice and thick arms – who had commanded him to call her “sir” – was just barely 18 years old!?! He turned and looked up at her. “You’re not … how old are you?”

“I just turned 18,” she said.

His eyed widened – she was 2 years younger than him? He thought this woman was… a force, a dominant, older woman but she was, barely an adult?!? He pulled away.

“I… I can’t… This is crazy…” and he started to walk away at a pace. This was an insane situation and he needed to get away from her.

He got about 30’ away, near a park bench before she seized on him, pulling him with powerful hands onto her lap, face down.

Before he knew what was happening, Allie had him draped over her lap, had hiked up his skirt, and was spanking his ass with intense power. Each spank was firm and powerful as her strong hands slapped against his soft flesh. She was so strong, his ass was red and in no time he was crying on her lap.

“You do not walk away from me!” she said firmly as she slapped his ass.

It all happened so quickly that he had no time to react before he was kicking his legs and crying from the pain. She had grabbed his arm, pulled him across her lap, turned his skirt up and was slapping his ass firmly. The humiliation was so intense and his ass burned with the sensation of being spanked in public. Who would see? What was happening? He couldn’t think clearly but, instead, shouted in pain, and through a veil of tears cried, “I’m sorry sir! I’m sorry sir!” He felt her strong hand bending his arm behind his back while the other arm came down furiously on his ass.

Finally, she stopped and held him there, prone, supine, on his stomach, his ass burning and tears rolling down his face. Eventually she let go and he got to his feet: she looked at him like an angry predator. His legs wobbled in terror and his face was marked with tears.

Allie looked at him firmly and said, “Do not walk away from me. That is lesson number one. When I speak, you listen. Do you understand?”

He nodded silently.

“Good girl. Now, yes, I am younger than you by some years, but I am your superior. If you ever doubt that, just tell me and I’ll spank you again until you cry and until you’ve learned your lesson. Do you understand?”

He nodded again.

“I want to hear you apologize.”

He paused before doing so, “I’m sorry sir. I’ll be a good girl.”

She looked at him with an expression of disapproval. “Tell me that you accept my control. That you are older, but you are weaker and therefore accept my superiority.”

He did as she asked, feeling a deep feeling of shame.

She smiled at him and his heart leapt at the feeling of being out of trouble. He felt a sense of humiliation at subjecting himself to this girl’s wrath so easily, at groveling for her forgiveness, at calling her sir, but he also knew that this was part of who he was – he craved the humiliation and subjugation.

She stood up in front of him, reminding him once again of the size difference between them. He was amazed that this girl could have such strong arms and a powerful presence. With her size, her strength, and her deep voice, he’d thought she was far older than him… She exhibited such mastery that he felt compelled to submit to her will…

She raised one of her arms in front of him and he wrapped a delicate hand around it as he knew she expected.

After he had wiped the tears off his cheek, they continued walking. Allie told her story, “I always rejected anything feminine that my parents tried to get me to do and I never felt like a girl. I was always taller than the other girls and most of the boys. I was stronger too. At first I felt like a freak, but now I know, it’s just that I’ve got high testosterone, I’m more mannish than I am girlish. Just like you’re more girlish than you are mannish.”

“Yes, sir” he replied.

Alex felt a strange mix of admiration and fear. He had always felt like he didn’t fit in either – too sensitive for the boys, not quite right for the girls – but he had never found a place where he could be himself. And now, with his sister and this new person in his life, he was being forced into a role that seemed to fit him perfectly: a submissive, weak little girl.

“It’s okay to be a girl, Alice. It’s okay to like make-up, and skirts, and thinking about boys. I want you to think of me when you think of someone with power, look up to me. When I tell you something, you should think, ‘Sir knows best.’ Will you do that Alice?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want to you remember that I’m actually younger than you, but I’m bigger, stronger, taller, smarter, and telling you what to do. Nature has decided for us, Alice: nature has decided that you’re going to be my little girl. And that’s OK… it’s okay to be weak and small and need someone to take care of you. It’s okay to have a penis and still be a girl inside. You’re not a man, you’re a girl. And I’m going to help you be the best little girl you can be." She said as they approached the house.

He looked up at her, feeling a strange sense of comfort and belonging that he had never felt before. Sir was right… she needed sir and should listen to him.

“You’re so small and weak, like a flower, and you need Charlie and I to take care of you. Don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Allie bent down to look him in the eyes, "I know it's hard, but you're going to get used to it, Alice. And you're going to like it, too. You're going to like being a pretty little girl who needs a strong protector like Charlie or me."

Alex felt his heart flutter in his chest, his eyes searched hers for reassurance. She smiled down at him, a knowing smile that seemed to understand the tumult of emotions swirling within him.

He felt drawn to this powerful young woman. He wanted to surrender to her, to open himself to her. An image flashed in his mind, of Charlie and Charlene, he wanted that…

When they returned home, Charlie wasn’t there and Allie instructed Alex to go upstairs and change into something even girlier. “You decide. Ask yourself: what will make sir happy?”

Upstairs, in the safety of his room, Alex hesitantly began to undress. His reflection in the mirror was that of a boy in a skirt, a blush of humiliation still staining his cheeks. He touched the pink fabric of the dress with curiosity. The wig felt foreign on his head, but as he looked in the mirror, he saw the beginnings of a transformation. The blonde hair fell around his shoulders, framing his face in a way that made his features seem softer, more delicate.

He decided to follow her words and stepped out of his clothes, put on a pink bra, pink panties, and a semi-translucent short, pink dress. His chest filled out the pink bra ever so slightly but he stuffed tissues into the cups and pushed up the soft flesh to give some sense of cleavage. He applied pink lipstick to his mouth and a little bit of glitter around his eyes before he headed downstairs where Allie was waiting for him. His steps were small and cautious, each one a silent confession of his new identity.

Allie's eyes lit up when she saw him. "You look beautiful, Alice," she said, her voice deep and warm. She had turned on music in his absence. She stepped towards him, extending a hand. "You look innocent but also, a little slutty.” She pulled him into an embrace, “You got it exactly right. Come here."

Alex felt his face turn a deeper shade of red as he took her hand and she began to rock with him in her embrace. She led him into a slow dance, her much larger frame enveloping his. Her strong arms held him firmly, guiding him through the movements with a confidence that was both terrifying and exhilarating. As they swayed, he couldn't help but feel the power dynamics shift even further in her favor. The dress swirled around his legs as he moved with her, the fabric brushing against his skin in a way that felt both strange and oddly comforting.

Her hand was on his waist, guiding him through the dance, and he could feel the strength in her fingers as they gently held him in place. He looked up at her, her tall frame towering over him, her strong arms encircling his body, and realized that she was taking on the role of the masculine protector. It was a role reversal that seemed so natural and yet so alien to him.

As they danced, she leaned down and whispered in his ear, "Remember, Alice, you're a girl now. You're small and delicate, and you need a strong, dominant figure in your life. And I'm going to be that for you."

“Yes, sir,” he said and he wrapped his arms around her neck and looked up into her eyes. She looked down at him, “What do you think a good girl should do to make her man happy?” Her words sent a shiver down his spine. He knew she wasn't just playing a role; she meant it. And as much as the thought of being under her control scared him, it also made him feel safe in a way he had never experienced before.

He understood her instructions, and he pressed his crotch against hers and began to gyrate. Soon he turned around and leaned his small, lithe body into her larger frame and ground his ass into her crotch. He heard her whisper, “Mmmm… you’re such a slut.”

Allie's strong hands grabbed Alex's ass firmly, pulling him into her embrace. The fabric of her shorts was rough against his skin, a stark contrast to the softness of his own skirt. He felt himself stiffen in his panties, his body responding to the sudden intimacy of the gesture despite his mind's protests.

She turned him around and brought a hand up to one of his breasts and massaged it in the dress, “Do you like me to touch your tits, Alice?”

“Yes, sir,”

She stuck one of her thick legs between his and she pulled him in so that his feet were off the ground. He was riding her leg like a small, weak girl. The dance was no longer just a dance; it had become a declaration of her dominance over him. His heart raced as she whispered into his ear, "Get used to this Alice. This is just the beginning…”

Snowed In 4

I had a vision of Karen as I lay in bed that night … her tight white yoga pants, her powerful legs, her thick muscular arms, and her swollen clitoris. She had, in a short time, gone from being a powerful, strong woman, to becoming an amazon goddess right before my eyes. What was next?

After our night of rapturous sex, we lay together before falling asleep. That night my dreams were filled with images of Karen, larger than me and larger than life, of her large clit pressed up against me, of me on my knees, pressing my face against it.

It growing, larger and larger… In my dream, my face was pressed against her clit and I could feel it hardening, growing, pressing against my jaw. It was expanding inside her pants…

In the dream, suddenly her swollen clit became a cock and it was almost against my face… I opened my mouth and it filled me, a thick, powerful, iron female cock sliding into my mouth. I could feel it, inserting and removing, Karen filling me with her being, I wanted it… I could almost taste it…

As I awoke, my tongue was swimming in my mouth, lubricating the imaginary cock, and I was half hard and in a sweat. My heart was pounding and I couldn’t pull fantasy apart from reality. It took me a second to realize where I was and what was on my mind… Things had changed between Karen and I in so short a time. I felt different… like I knew there was something wrong about this whole experience, but also something deeply right.

I luxuriated in the enjoyment of the dream for a minute… how long had I slept? There was something strange about my body, something lethargic, slow, and filled with pleasure. Normally when I woke up, I was filled with energy and jumped straight out of bed. Now I wanted to be langorous, to lie under the cover… As I thought about this, I could hear Karen, already awake, and moving in the kitchen.

I stretched under the covers and immediately I felt something slightly different. My body did feel … new … a new sensation that I wasn’t used to, like a subtle itch or feeling that I’d never had before in my chest. I reached down and felt my chest and immediately pulled my hand back at the shock. There was … a bump there… Two small bumps on my chest and when my hand grazed my nipple, there was a sensation, a tingling, erotic sensation. What the hell was going on!?!?

I pressed my hand gently against my chest and felt again… it was definitely there. Two small bumps – what the hell was happening. I pulled the covers down and raised my t-shirt, and I could see it… a swelling around my chest. They looked like tiny breasts growing under my shirt. I pressed one finger against a nipple and felt a strange, erotic sensation, like someone was touching my penis but in a different part of my body. I felt heat rise in my body and I instinctively touched it again. It felt… good… wrong… strange. My finger dwelt on this new erogenous zone and my mouth went slack as I touched it a little more intensely. I could feel my cock hardening and my heart beating a little faster.

Suddenly I heard Karen clear her throat and I looked up. She was standing in the doorway with an amused smile on her face.

“Didn’t you get enough last night?” she asked, smiling at me.

She was standing naked in the doorway, looking every bit like an amazonian woman. Her powerful frame exuded muscular strength and her biceps and shoulders looked thick with power. Her ab muscles were firm and tight, only serving to make her full breasts stand all the higher on her statuesque body. The Regenahealth was making her look even more amazonian and powerful than ever before and her prominent clit stood out from her body like a small cock. I wasn’t sure who was bigger flaccid… her or me. My eyes surveyed her body, taking in all her power and sexuality.

She did the same to me and slowly her eyes fell to my chest and she smirked before saying, "I wondered if that might happen.” I thought for a second before her words registered in a kind of horror She moved towards me, striding across the room with the grace and strength of a panther. She leaned over, and pulled the covers away and looked down at my breasts “They’re so small… like a young girl’s. Can I touch them?”

My mind was divided. I was horrified and also… I wanted her to touch them, to squeeze my nipples and pull them. To abuse me. I licked my lips and barely made a sound.

“I bet they’re so sensitive,” she said calmly.

I could feel the heat of her proximity, the aura of her presence. My body was responding to her nearness like a flower opening to the sun… I managed to ask, “But… how?”

“It’s my clit, my changing body, the Regenahealth. When I cum inside you, it gives you a dose of estrogen. Your body is changing every time I fuck you. I’m making you my girl. Breaking down your manhood. Taking it from you.”

She paused… “Don’t worry… I’ll give you something in exchange.”

Her words washed over me with erotic power and I could feel the sheer lust and desire coming over me. My body felt electric and alert… waiting for her touch. If she had flipped me over there and fucked me again, I wouldn’t have resisted. My mouth was dry with desire … I wanted her to.

But instead she sat on the bed next to me and stroked my head.

“You know, some men…” she paused, “some men might have resisted.”

“Some men might have held on, fought a little, pushed back.” She continued stroking my head, like a servant, like a puppy.

“But for you, it seems like you know it’s right… like you almost… want it.”

I was breathing heavy as I looked up into her eyes. Her breasts were so large in front of my face and I could see the outline of her muscles. My dick stiffened and my nipples were erect as I listened to her words of humiliation.

I saw her look down at my hardening nipples.

“Everything about me tells you how much you want it… don’t you?”

I simply looked up at her, my heart pounding, my chest heaving with desire.

“It’s been happening for a while… me taking the lead, taking charge… our bodies are just showing us what our minds have known for a while now.”

She smiled down at me possessively.

“Look at those little buds… they’re so small and sensitive… like you…”

She looked deep into my eyes and then a small smile crept across her face.

“I have just the thing.”

She turned away from me and opened a drawer in the dresser. My eyes lingered over her back muscles, moving with each step, down to the curve of her firm, muscular ass. In a few seconds, she returned, holding a pink nightie in her hands.

“Try this on.”

I held my hands out and felt the silk nightie – it was small, sheer and very feminine. I moved to get out of the bed but she placed a firm hand on my chest, lodged between my two breasts and said, “No.”

I looked up at her, waiting to drink in her instructions.

“Do it there. I want to see you lying there in it.”

I did as she instructed, sliding out of my male pyjamas and awkwardly pushing my body into the pink, silk nightie. Finally I got it around my body and pulled the sash closed at the front. She looked down on me with a confident smile.

“You look beautiful, sweetie.” She dragged her middle finger along my lips before sliding it into my mouth.

“They say that when you’re conquering a weak girl, you should make her beg for it. Make it so she needs your cock, so she can’t live without it. So that when you want to fuck her, she begs so much she thinks its her idea.” She slid her finger into my mouth and began to slide it in and out of my lips.

“Do you need my cock, sweetie?”

“Mmmmmm” is all I could muster. My nipples were rock hard and my cock was hardening.

"You like that, don't you?" she said, her voice low and teasing. "You like feeling like a girl."

I didn't respond, afraid of what might come out if I opened my mouth.

I nodded, unable to find my voice. I looked up at her, the powerful muscles, the striated veins in her arms and her thick thighs. I felt so small, so weak in comparison. My body was screaming for her to climb atop me, to push her elongated clit into my mouth and pump me full of more of her masterful female seed.

But she simply smiled again and said, “Good.”

"Good," she said, and she climbed onto the bed, straddling me. She positioned herself so that her thick clit was pressing down on my chest, right between my new breasts. "Now, show me how much you want to be my girl. Suck on these while I play with your clit," she said, pointing to her own nipples.

I looked at her, unsure of what to do. But something inside me, something that had been growing since our first night of this new dynamic, took over. I leaned forward and took one of her large, nipples into my mouth and began to suck. It was strange, but also oddly natural. And as she began to play with my male clit, her thumb circling it, pressing down, my body responded. I was getting hard.

At the same time, she began to gently rub my nipples with her fingers and I could feel a roll of sexual desire coming over me like nothing I felt before. I was melting in front of her and needed to spend all my concentration attending to her swollen breasts.

I could feel her getting harder, her clit growing even more substantial. I looked down at her clit and my dick… was she bigger? Was I imagining her size? My vision was blurring with desire, but her muscular frame pressed against me, her large tits, almost as big as my head… I was drunk with lust.

She stood up and her clit hovered in front of my head… there was no mistaking it, it was more dick than clit now. I looked at it, and at her… I wasn’t certain, but my body was. My nipples were hard and my dick was throbbing with desire.

She smiled down at me like a benevolent goddess.

“Just give a kiss for now. A kiss to show your submission.”

I obeyed, taking the tip in my mouth and kissing it. I could feel it throb in my mouth as she raged with desire.

“And a little lube, sweetie. You’ll be glad you did it.”

Again, I took her in my mouth and wrapped my willing lips around her cock, spreading saliva up and down the shaft.

Karen gave a guttural moan, and then gave my nipples a firm tweak, sending an electric shock of desire through my body. I was still recovering from the feeling when she said, “Now I’m going to fuck you, baby.”

She flipped me onto my stomach with little effort, I felt like a small girl in her powerful arms and I felt her thick, athletic legs press against my back, opening me up.

I wanted it. I wanted it all. All of her. I wanted to be fucked.

I felt her swollen clitcock enter me, lubricated by my saliva and her precum and she eased her way into my ass. Her body was solid iron pressing up against my soft, yielding sissy torso.

She let out a deep guttural moan as she entered me.

“Are you a good girl? Do you deserve my cock?”

“Mmmmmm….”

“Tell me, you slut.”

“Please, Master Karen. I’m a good girl. Please fuck my pussy with your cock.”

She was thrusting now with intensity and ferocity.

“You need my cock don’t you.”

“Mmmm…. Yes, master. Please, fuck me. I’m a girl for you. Breed me and give me tits and take away my malehood.”

Her body was like a jackhammer, pounding my ass with her thick clit. She fucked me like I’d never fucked her. I was always soft, never cut out for this kind of sex. When I fucked her, she’d smile, let me cum after a few minutes, and then pleasure herself. This was different. I was being fucked, I was being torn apart, by this dominant alpha woman. I would never be the same.

After a minute she spun me around and made me sit on her cock and bounce, choking me and squeezing my tits. Then she flipped me around again, and drove into my ass repeatedly.

“You see how long I last? You see how well I fuck you?”

“Yes Karen… you’re so amazing…”

“I’m your man, aren’t I?”

“Yes, Karen… you’re my man and I’m your bitch. I’ve always been your bitch.”

She threw me onto the bed, raised my legs, and entered me from atop while she choked me.

I couldn’t believe how long she was going. My nipples and dick were rock hard, I was a puppet being strung along by her every movement. I was exhausted, coated in sweat, and could barely move… but she was the one doing all the work. And she kept going…

Finally, she pulled out of me and I heard my ass unclench with a pop. Her clit was rock hard… she had to be bigger than me. She sat on the bed and opened her legs.

“Come, girl. Finish me with your mouth.”

"You're going to love sucking my cock," she said, her voice breathy. "You're going to love taking it all in and swallowing my cum. And when we're done, you're going to thank me for making you into such a good little girl. For breeding you like any good man should"

I nodded silently. The idea was so humiliating, but I found myself getting more and more turned on by it. I crawled on my knees between her thick thighs, like a slave worshipping at the altar of his goddess. Her power, her sex, her strength were all so immense. I was on the edge of cumming just being surrounded by her electric being.

I leaned down and took her in my mouth. She was bigger than last time, her clit had grown substantially and she began to fuck my with her clit, her powerful thighs pushing my head back and forth, I knew that I had truly lost all control. I was her girl now, her plaything, and I would do anything she asked. I sucked and licked, eager to please, as she grew closer and closer to climax. I could feel her hardening, throbbing, and finally she exploded in my mouth, her juices exploding into my mouth. I swallowed eagerly, feeling a sense of pride that was unlike anything I had ever felt before.

I felt positively tiny and owned, my torso smaller than either of the mountainous thighs that surrounded me, my head smaller than her large breasts. My eyes traced the peaks and valleys of her muscular arms, her defined chest, before making my way to her face and her eyes. She looked down at me like a benevolent goddess.

“Can you feel my cum inside you little one? Changing you?”

“It was grow your tits, it’ll make your clit even weaker and feminine, and it will grow my cock even more. Do you feel it?”

I thought of her discharge entering my body, changing me from within, making me more her possession, her supplicant. Reborn from her dominance, I would become a new sissy plaything. I felt my nipples harden. If I could’ve sucked her again, I would have.

“Yes, Mistress. Please… fuck me again soon.”

Sylvie's Princess

Sylvie was my best friend as a kid – we did everything together and were, in our own ways, misfits at our school. I was a smaller, bookish boy who was maybe a little timid around other people. Sylvie, for her part, was taller than me by a head, outgoing, gregarious and more physical than I had ever been. We lived in the same neighbourhood as kids and had met at a park one day when we were in our early teens. She was playing on the monkey bars and I was swinging when she came over to talk to me as I was getting off the swings.

I immediately noticed that she was taller than me by a head and looked a fair bit stronger. She had the kind of outgoing personality that I lacked but she knew how to make me feel comfortable. She was so confident and tall that I was a bit intimidated but I was glad that this older girl was taking an interest in me. After chatting for a while, I was surprised to learn that we were the same age – I definitely thought she was older than me because she was that much bigger and mature. We talked and became fast friends and that same day Sylvie invited herself over to my house for dinner. I didn’t protest and she was a friendly and animated presence at the dinner table. I think my parents were just happy that I’d made a friend and she was soon a staple at my house just as I was at hers. Our different genders didn’t matter to our friendship: we loved the same things, laughed at the same jokes, and had similar interests. In a small town filled with conservative-minded people who wanted boys to be boys and girls to be girls, we were kindred spirits.

I remember the summer when we both turned 18 years old and there was something of a new dynamic in our relationship. We were both still friends and got along famously but I had begun really noticing the opposite sex and that started to interfere with our dynamic. There were girls in my school that I was attracted to but that paid me no mind. I was always smaller than most of the other boys – I stood a mere 5’5 and had slightly feminine features: long eyelashes, soft features, and a timidity around others. So try as I might to get girls to notice me, they mostly wouldn’t.

Sylvie, for her part, didn’t seem to have any trouble getting guys interested in her but it didn’t seem like she was interested in any of them. She stood almost 6’2 by the time she was 18 and was confident and aggressive in ways that seemed to scare off any of the boys. She wasn’t especially muscular but was clearly strong and probably intimidated a lot of the guys in our school. Her body was toned and lithe but not especially feminine – just athletic. And with her mane of long red hair and her bright blue eyes, she exuded a wildness and confidence. Plus, she had a reputation as someone not to be messed with. Once when a jock in my class was making fun of me, Sylvie got him in a headlock and held him there until he apologized to me. I remember seeing him squirming in her hold, her biceps pressed against his face as she held him there and I felt a strange experience of arousal and confusion as I watched her hold him in place. He apologized and Sylvie made him promise not to bother me again. After that any bullies left both of us alone: Sylvie because they knew she would beat them up, and me because they knew Sylvie protected me.

That summer, we were sitting in her basement bingeing movies and chatting. We talked a little bit about relationships and people we liked at school. The idea of us ‘liking’ one another had never really come up – we were such good friends I think we both kind of just ignored the possibility that we might be into one another – but the thought had crossed my mind. We had both just become adults so the possibility was there...

Especially in these kinds of situations where we were hanging out together so closely and I could see her long, thick legs in her short shorts and her prominent butt. My eyes definitely lingered over the tight muscles in her thighs and more than once I had noticed her small breasts. I had to admit that my best friend was getting pretty hot but I was too meek to do anything about it.

That night we had decided to spend the night going through the Star Wars trilogy. We both loved those movies and had watched them so many times we often quoted the movies to one another. But this time things were a little different. It might have been the summer energy or our awakening new awareness of one another, but there was a new feeling of possibility in the air. I sensed there was something on Sylvie’s mind that she was looking for a way to talk about.

As we were watching the final Star Wars movie, we came to the scenes where Princess Leia is wearing her gold bikini. I had thought about that scene a lot in the past few years and had probably dreamed of, and masturbated to, the image of Leia in that costume once or twice as I was lying in bed. The image of her femininity, her curves, and tantalizing body were very attractive to me. There was something knowing, something sultry in Leia’s eyes that unlocked a part of my being. Sylvie must have noticed me staring at the screen wistfully, tracing the outline of Leia’s breasts and ass because she turned to me and paused the movie.

“Hey, Nick can I ask you something?”

I snapped out of my ogling and turned to her. She was lying on the floor across from me with her head propped up by her right arm. I could see a small bicep popping from her arm as she looked at me and I noticed the veins in her neck. Her neck was feminine but strong and I traced it up to her bright eyes bearing down on me. I don’t know if it was the transferal of Leia on the screen to Sylvie in real life but I was struck by a feeling of desire and attraction towards my friend. I could see the outline of her breasts under her t-shirt.

“Of course.”

She thought for a second, looking away, and then back with a smile. “Well, I was just wondering.” She paused, slightly embarrassed. “Like… what do you think of Princess Leia in that outfit?”

My face went slightly red and I looked away and began to stammer, “Um… well… um.”

She put her hand on mine and I looked up into her eyes. Her hand was larger and warm and I felt safe next to her.

“Nick, it’s OK. You can tell me.”

I exhaled and continued. “Well, yeah, I think she looks pretty hot if I’m honest.”

She smiled. “I wondered if you did” and then continued, “sometimes I don’t know what guys want.”

I replied, “Well she’s kinda every guy’s fantasy.”

She said, “Yeah, it’s weird cuz well.” She paused for a second. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course!”

She looked up at me and said, “I kinda think she looks hot too.”

I was slightly confused, “You do? How so?” Sylvie and I had never really talked about what she was attracted to. I had just assumed she was attracted to guys almost by default.

“Well look at her. Her smooth, sexy legs. Her curves. She’s a beautiful woman and exudes both a kind of femininity but also, later, when she rebels, she shows how strong she is.”

“Yeah…” I agreed, realizing that Sylvie had thought about this far more than me. It had simply never crossed my mind that Sylvie might be a lesbian.

She looked at me again with a somewhat worried expression: “I hope you don’t think I’m weird.”

“No, of course not. You like what you like. That’s totally fine. You know I’d never judge you.”

She smiled and then said, “Nick, wanna know something else?”

“Yeah.”

“My Mom has that costume hidden in her closet. I think she wore it for Halloween one year or something,” she said with a smile.

“Wow, really?”

“Yeah.” She smiled again and squinted her eyes at me. “You want me to put it on?”

I looked at her somewhat stunned.

She continued, “My parents are out. They won’t know. What do you think? Wanna see me in it?”

My mind was racing. This was incredible. I was seeing Sylvie in a whole new light. I swallowed at the prospect of what was unfolding before me.

“Um… yeah… I mean, do you want to?”

“Nick, you said its every guy’s fantasy right? Then maybe you’ll like it.”

Of course I would like it and I said so. She smiled at me and said she would give it a try. As she was leaving she turned to me and said, “But if I give you your fantasy, you have to give me mine.”

I didn’t know what she meant but immediately agreed. I would’ve agreed to anything to make this happen.

She left the room quietly and I sat there waiting. Turning to the screen. I looked at the image of Leia in her bikini, staring at the screen, a mixture of femininity and confidence. I felt my dick harden slightly in my pants and licked my lips at the thought of seeing Sylvie in a similar costume. Leia gazed back in a knowing, disarming look that expressed the power that she had even in that costume. I could hear her moving around upstairs and then, after a few minutes, she descended the stairs and reentered the room.

“Well, what do you think?” she said, entering the room.

She looked absolutely amazing. Gone was the plucky tomboy, my pal from the neighborhood, and in her place was this tall, strong, sexy looking woman dressed in the Leia costume. I could see the outline of her ab muscles, the power of her thighs, the flexing of her calves, and the definition of her shoulders. She looked so muscular and powerful that she was going to burst out of the costume. Her red hair was tied back into a tight ponytail that she had quickly knotted together.

My mouth was dry with desire and my eyes must have expressed my feelings because she smiled and laughed. She looked even better than the Leia in the movie: it was like an even more attractive version of the character had walked into the room. I had seen Sylvie in various states over the past few years but must have missed just how much she had filled out – she was positively amazonian and the bikini just stressed how strong she had gotten.

“The only thing, Nick, is I can’t really move in this thing. It’s too small for me. I couldn’t do up the bra because my back is too big.”

She turned around and showed me that the bra was hanging off her back and wasn’t done up. Her back was wide at the top but tapered down to her waist. Between her shoulder blades was a sea of dancing muscle that moved whenever she did. Likewise, the bikini bottoms were straining against her round, firm ass. It was too small to contain her.

She turned back around and smiled and flexed her bicep – it positively exploded in her arm, it was at least as big as a baseball. I knew she had muscle but was surprised at just how strong she had become. My eyes betrayed my amazement because I just stared, completely enthralled by my friend’s body. I could feel my heart racing, my breath quickening, and my dick straining against my boxers.

She smiled and said, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think my body is really built for something like this. But I hope you liked the show.” And with that she went into the adjoining bathroom and came out a few minutes later in her regular outfit of shorts and a t-shirt.

“What did you think?”

“You looked great, Sylvie. Really amazing.”

“But it didn’t really fit me.”

“Yeah, that’s true, but you still looked good. A bigger one would fit you.”

“Maybe but I think the whole idea of the slave bikini is that it’s supposed to be for a smaller, more petite person. I’m kinda too strong for the outfit, my muscles and body are just too big.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“That’s OK though. Those kinds of things never suit me very well.”

“I know, Sylvie. But still, you looked great.”

“Thanks…” she paused and looked at me. She put her hand over mine and gazed deep into my eyes.

“But you know…”

Where was this going?

“What?”

“Well, to be honest…”

“Yes?”

“To be honest, I think it would better suit someone … well… your size.”

She let the idea hang in the air a bit. I stumbled to say something before she said, “You did say that if I gave you your fantasy, you would give me mine.” She looked at me with a suggestive smile and then said, “Please, Nikki. Would you show me what it looks like on you?”

She occasionally called me Nikki in a teasing way but this time she added emphasis to the name.

I felt a rush of embarrassment and confusion. The idea of me wearing something like that was crazy but there was a small part of me that wanted to try it.

“No way, Sylvie. That would be humiliating.”

“Why, Nick? Come on! I just told you one of my secrets.”

“Yeah but…”

“And besides, you said you’d never judge, and that people like what they like and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“OK but…”

“I won’t judge you! Maybe you’ll like it.”

“I don’t think I will.”

She paused and pulled her hand away. “Hey, I dressed up for you. What’s the big deal? Can’t you return the favor?”

I could tell she was feeling offended, or at least playing that she was. Her reasoning had me surrounded – I had no choice.

“OK, Sylvie. But only if you promise never to tell anyone about this.”

Her smile burst across her face. “Yay! Come on Nikki! Show me how good you look.”

I stood up, went up to the bathroom and took a deep breath before opening the door. The costume was hanging from the towel rack, shimmering and tiny. I looked at myself in the mirror and took off my shirt and shorts. Surveying my own body I realize just how small I looked and with the small amount of fat on my chest, this bikini might make me look even a little bit feminine. I had never done anything like this before and was a bit intimidated and unsure about how to put the bikini on. Eventually, though, I figured it out, and began by pulling the bikini bottoms over my legs. They were tight and uncomfortable, but I managed to get them on. I pushed my penis deep into the pouch and it fit surprising well. I admired myself in the mirror: My legs had always been thin and hairless and in this outfit they looked positively girlish.

I then pulled the top over my head and with some effort, figured out how to secure the clasps on my back. Where Sylvie’s back was broad and stretched the bikini top to a breaking point, my slight frame seemed to fit the top naturally. The string of the bikini top covered my nipples and the bottoms left very little to the imagination. The bikini top actually pushed my chest together to give the impression of breasts. Looking at myself in the mirror, I realized that I really did look the part. I didn’t have Leia’s looks but my face had enough of a feminine appearance to resemble an attractive girl. I turned to the side and looked at my round ass in the bikini bottoms. I had always had something of a round, bubble butt and the bottoms made that even more pronounced.

I was looking at myself in the mirror, adjusting the bra to emphasize my breasts and sticking my butt out to provide an even more feminine appearance, when I noticed a tube of lipstick on the counter. Why not… I was doing this for my friend, my Sylvie. She had just dressed up for me so why wouldn’t I do the same thing. I opened the lipstick, a deep red, and dragged it across my lips slowly. It wasn’t perfect but it was close enough. I used some toilet paper to dab my lips and then practiced pouting in the mirror. Between my smooth skin, my small frame, my boy cleavage, and ref lips, I was looking more and more like a weak, slave girl.

"Well?" Sylvie called out from the other room.

Here goes nothing, I thought, and stepped out of the bathroom.

As I walked into the adjoining room, I blinked my eyes a number of times and then pouted my lips before speaking, in a soft voice, “What do you think… master?”

She was standing across the room in her t-shirt and shorts and I could see the thickness of her thighs and the evident musculature of her shoulders and neck. When she saw me, she stopped smiling immediately. Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. She took a step closer, her gaze moving over my body, taking in the outfit. “Nikki… you…”

She immediately pulled me into an embrace and I could feel the strength and warmth of her body against mine. Her strength was incredible and I was absolutely swallowed by her embrace. She kissed me passionately, holding my head with one hand and cupping my ass with the other. My inclination was to wrap my legs around her thick torso and moan for her to ravage me then and there. I felt possessed and controlled by her and my weak, thin body melted into her powerful torso. Her strength and dominance had unlocked something in me that I didn’t know I possessed. These were new feelings of submission, desire, a deep yearning to be fucked. I felt absolutely drunk with desire and arousal.

"You're so beautiful," she whispered against my lips.

I didn't know what to say. No one had ever called me beautiful before. I had never thought of myself this way before but everything she said felt right. I raised my hands and instinctively wrapped them around her thick biceps. She knew what I wanted and flexed them and I moaned in a girlish voice as her powerful muscles expanded in my hands. My dick was rock hard and I wanted nothing more than for her to throw me to the floor and fuck me like the virgin I was.

This sudden change was so immediate and complete that my head was swimming. I went into the bathroom Sylvie’s longtime buddy. I came out something completely different, a submissive feminine figure hugging Sylvie’s powerful frame. She had become something new, central, and powerful to me that I instinctively wanted to worship. We had barely spoken but our bodies were entwined with a new awareness of some truth unlocked between us. I didn’t know this but I felt it just as my hands grasped to feel the powerful muscles under her warm skin.

She pulled me tighter to her embrace and kissed me with a ferocious passion, invading my mouth with her long, thick tongue. I made space in my yearning mouth for her long tongue and sucked on it. I opened my eyes and looked up into hers. She pulled away from the kiss and swiftly, suddenly, bent down and begin to feverishly kiss my neck as she squeezed my ass.

“You’re so sexy, Nikki. You’re… everything I could’ve imagined.”

Her body was strong and her kisses were intense and powerful. I wrapped my arms around her neck and let her take me.

We were ensconced in a feeling of intense ecstacy and desire. My mind was racing with the possibilities of what was going to happen but this felt so right… I would do anything she wanted.

We must not have heard the basement door open or Sylvie’s Mom come downstairs but we both definitely heard her glass fall out of her hand and hit the stairs. We turned and looked. Her mother was staring at us with her mouth and eyes wide in horror. She looked at me and at Sylvie in disgust and I could see an expression of rage building within her.

My mind suddenly emerged from the sexual fog and I remembered what I was wearing. I tried to cover myself with my hands with little success.

Her mother stared at me, her face now red and said, through gritted teeth, “GET. OUT.”

I ran into the bathroom and quickly jumped out of the costume and into my clothes. As I did so, I could hear “disgusting… perverted…” being shouted at Sylvie along with “We told you… not natural’ and Sylvie pleading and arguing back.

When I came out of the bathroom in my normal clothes Sylvie was gone and her parents were in the room. They stared at me quietly and solemnly. Her Dad looked at me with disgust and spoke, “I don’t ever want to see you here again. If you come back, I’ll call the police.”

I was terrified, nervous, and humiliated and I just wanted to get out of there. I ran upstairs, put on my shoes and was out the door in no time. As I walked away from Sylvie’s house I looked back at her window but couldn’t see any sign of life.

Monday came and went without Sylvie at school. I was confused, hurt, and a little bit hopeful she might show up Tuesday but she was a no-show. I waited by my locker at lunch to see if she would appear, but she never did. People were starting to ask questions and I just mumbled something about her saying she might be sick. I didn’t have the courage to walk by her house but I was hoping I would bump into her at a store in town. I didn’t.

It was the Friday of that week when our teacher sadly announced to the class that Sylvie had transferred out of our school. Everyone soon learned that she had been transferred to an elite girl’s school far out of town. I didn’t know where she was or what had happened to her and I had no way of contacting her whatsoever. I felt absolutely devastated – my best friend was gone, the best person I’d known in this town, the only person who ever really understood me, had been completely cut out of my life. I remembered the night with the bikini, the lust, the newfound desire for one another. Just as we had learned something about one another, she was taken from me. When I saw her mother in town, she turned from me in disgust and wouldn’t acknowledge me at all.

I wandered through the rest of the school year in a grey haze thinking of Sylvie, hoping she would write, but she never did. People would tease me about where my girlfriend had gone but I hardly even responded. I turned inwards and shut out the rest of the world. It was horrible.

High school ended in a blur of my own disinterest and Sylvie slowly faded from my mind. I still thought of her but the pain was less immediate and the wound wasn’t as fresh. I began to think about college and about getting out of this little town and its backwards people and their idiotic way of thinking. I got accepted to some good universities and moved out of that town, promising never to return.

----- 10 years later -----

It was a Monday morning and I was getting ready to head into work at a local newspaper. I was a journalist and, although I was still junior, I was beginning to make a name for myself as a good reporter of local and national corruption. I was sitting in my apartment, drinking my coffee when I saw an email that made me stop in my tracks. My stomach fluttered as I saw the message: it was from Sylvie and subject line read “Hello.”

Dear Nick,

I hope you’re well and that its OK that I’m writing. I happened upon your name in the newspaper. You’re a great writer and it’s so wonderful to see you thriving and doing well. I’ve missed you.

I’m in town on business and I wondered if you might like to meet up for a drink after work. I’m staying downtown and can meet any time after 6pm. It would be great to see you and catch up.

Your friend,

Sylvie

---

I couldn’t believe it! Sylvie had not only found me but she had reached out. She wrote, “I’ve missed you.” What did that mean? I’d wondered about the possibility of this happening for years and it had become something of a fantasy. I remembered the scene in her parents’ basement with a mixture of shame and desire. It felt strange, as a grown man, to be dreaming about a teenage experience like that but it was also super hot and had stayed with me all those years. What did Sylvie think of it? What would she think of me now?

I looked at myself in the mirror. I was still quite short, having topped out at 5’7, and while I was in good shape, I still had something of an androgynous, feminine appearance. I’d had girlfriends in college but they had all commented on my lack of masculinity. None of my relationships ever got that serious and I was embarrassed to admit that I was still a virgin. Would any of this matter to Sylvie? Who was she now and what did she want with me?

Shaking off the doubt, I sat down and composed a quick email back to her. I suggested we meet for dinner instead of a drink. It was a bit more intimate, a bit more of a commitment, and it meant we could talk more and catch up. She immediately responded saying she’d love it and gave me the name of a restaurant downtown. I was both excited and nervous as I picked out what I would wear, trying to look good but not overdo it. I wanted to seem confident but not like I had been thinking about this moment for a decade.

I was anxious all day about meeting Sylvie but I was also very excited. When I finally arrived at the restaurant, my heart was racing and my palms were sweaty. The host led me to the back and when I saw her, I immediately recognized her. Gone was the teenager that I had known and in her place was a sophisticated, very attractive, looking woman. Her red hair was cut into a stylish bob that accentuated her neck and her makeup was subtle but attractive. She had ordered a bottle of white wine for us and she was dressed in a form fitting power suit with a white blouse tucket in. She saw me and gave me a beaming smile that put me immediately at ease.

As soon as she saw me she stood up and I was almost speechless at her height. I looked down and saw that she was wearing a pair of black heels but she easily stood 6’5. My eyes were level with her upper breasts and it took all of my effort to maintain her gaze. I noticed her breasts bouncing under her blouse as she came towards me and they looked full and round. If the teenage Sylvie was a force, adult Sylvie was unbelievably tall, powerful and attractive.

She wrapped her arms around me in a warm, strong hug that seemed to squeeze the air out of my lungs. Her embrace was firm and grounding and I felt my head being pressed against one of her large breasts. She kept me in her embrace before looking down at me with a broad smile, “Nikki… I’ve missed you.”

There it was again… the name…

She then pulled away and moved to my chair and pulled it out for me.

I smiled at her, craning my neck to look up, “Um… thanks, Sylvie.” I sat in the chair.

“My pleasure,” she said as she returned to her seat. Her voice was deeper and more commanding than it had been all those years back.

It took absolutely no time for us to be comfortable with one another. She told me about going to college and to law school and becoming a lawyer on the partner track. She talked about her cases and her clients with the kind of confidence that she had as a teenager but now only in the assured, intelligent voice of an adult. She asked me about my work as a journalist and took real interest in the things I was writing about.

When we had finished one bottle of wine, she ordered another without asking. For my part, I was happy to be led by Sylvie and I felt myself slipping into old, familiar, and comfortable patterns. We had returned to being old friends in virtually no time. Eventually we talked about what happened to her and she explained that her parents, outraged, over seeing me dressed up, had shipped her to a girls’ school far out of town.

“They were so freaked out by what they’d seen that they almost wanted rid of me.” She said, with some sadness, “I don’t speak to them anymore. They don’t understand me at all and they don’t want to.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She smiled. “Don’t be. You know what that town was like. Full of the kind of morons who vote for our current politicians. Scared of anyone who might be slightly different and blaming the world for their own failures. Electing a fool who promises them everything but is just going to fuck them over in the end. They’ll get what they deserve. I was glad to get out of there and I’ve never looked back.”

I admired her so much for articulating all the things we’d felt when we were younger and sticking to her convictions, and living her truth, no matter the cost. As I was reflecting on that our dinner arrived. Before Sylvie began to ate she removed her suit jacket and I was stunned by the muscles in her arms. She wasn’t just thick anymore, she was positively jacked – her arms were thick and toned and she looked like worked out all the time. I could see her thick biceps and triceps dancing ever so slightly as she prepared to eat. I was awash in desire for this amazon before me.

My thoughts must have been transparent because she squeezed her arms, producing a large bicep, and smiled at me.

“Impressed?” She let the question linger before continuing. “At the girls school I threw my anger into working out and being strong and I’ve kept it up ever since.”

She took a bite of her food. “The last time I saw my father he tried to give me the ‘girls should be girls’ bullshit. I pinned him to the ground and walked out of the house. I haven’t gone back since.”

I was amazed by her strength and power and at some point I asked her about her height. She had topped out at 6’4. I felt sheepish when she told me that, realizing that I was like a child next to her. She smiled and put her hand assuringly on my arm, “Don’t worry, Nikki. I’ve always thought you were cute.”

Her comment cut me to the core and mixed with my adoration of her strength and power. She was everything I had ever wanted in a woman – confident, powerful, and fiercely independent. Her career was taking off and she talked about her cases with such authority and confidence that I was absolutely smitten. She was a force to be reckoned with and I felt myself falling for her more and more as the night went on. It was partially the wine but it was also just her. I had dreamed about this experience of seeing her again so many times but this exceeded all of my expectations.

Sylvie leaned in closer and took a sip of her wine, her eyes never leaving mine. "But enough about that," she said, placing the glass down with a gentle clink.

"Do you ever think about that night?" she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Our last night together?"

I felt a rush of heat to my cheeks. I nodded, trying to keep my voice steady. "Yeah, I do," I confessed. "It was... it was incredible."

Her smile grew as she reached across the table and took my hand in hers. "Me too, Nikki," she said softly.

Her thumb traced circles on the back of my hand and she looked deep into my eyes. "How about we go back to my hotel for a nightcap?" she suggested.

The proposal hung in the air, thick with unspoken promise. My heart was racing and I looked up into her eyes and nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'd like that."

Sylvie paid the bill with the ease of someone accustomed to taking charge, and we left the restaurant. As we stood up I was struck again by just how tall she was. I was positively dwarfed standing next to her and as we left the restaurant she put a strong arm around me and pulled me into her warm embrace. Her presence, her scent, her power were all intoxicating and I felt myself pulled along in a haze of desire and submission. She was so close to me after all these years, our bodies close but not quite touching. The air was filled with the faint scent of her perfume, something spicy and exotic that made me want to bury my face in her neck and inhale her in.

We were silent as we came to her hotel and took the elevator to her floor. The doors slid open to reveal a suite that was a stark contrast to the cramped basement of her parent's house. It was sleek, modern, and spacious. She led me to the bar, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. The sound was surprisingly alluring, a reminder of her power and poise. She poured us both a glass of whiskey, neat.

After I’d had a sip she said, “I have something for you. A gift”

I was intrigued and looked at her.

“It’s in the bathroom.” And with that she raised her eyebrows and gestured with her glass towards the bathroom.

I looked at her, put down my glass, and walked into the bathroom.

On the counter was a pink paper bag with white tissue paper inside. I pulled the tissue paper aside and looked.

There it was. The Leia bikini that I had worn all those years ago. I couldn’t tell if it was the same one or a replacement but it looked identical. Alongside it was pink lipstick, a perfume, and a brown wig that looked exactly like Leia’s hair in the movie. There was also a feminine shaving crème and a pink razor.

I knew what she wanted me to do and I wanted the same thing. I quietly shut the door, lathered my legs, armpits and pubic area and shaved myself. In a matter of minutes I was completely hairless. I pulled the Leia costume over my body, going through the same ritual I had gone through years before. I put on the wig and was amazed at how feminine I looked, once again. I applied the lipstick and sprayed the perfume on my body. It had a sweet, floral scent. I looked in the mirror: washed away were any traces of the masculine self that had entered. Instead, I was now a pouting, sexualized, female servant. I stuck out my ass and pouted my lips, put my hand on the doorknob and walked out to see Sylvie.

She was sitting on the side of the bed and as I walked to her I swayed my hips like the harem slave girl I was prepared to be. She had undressed completely and I was astonished by her size. She was an amazonian combination of female power and sexuality. Her breasts were DD and sat firm and large against her rock hard stomach. Her shoulders were round and defined and I could see the layers of muscles in her calves, thighs, and arms. She was a goddess, a vision out of my dreams and I was finally going to be able to show her how much I wanted her. She looked at me with a smile and said, “At last, Nikki, my princess. I have you.”

I came to her and knelt at her feet. “Master, finally, you found me. I’ve been waiting for you for so long,” I said in a feminine voice.

“Come to me, my princess.”

I climbed up on her lap and straddled her, my soft thighs pressing against her powerful torso. She pulled me to her and kissed me forcefully and intensely. I felt her enter my mouth and I opened my orifice for her. As I did she held one of my soft breasts in her hand and squeezed my ass.

She then pushed my head into her breast and I needed no instruction. Her breast was as big as my head and I worshipped her nipple.

As I did so my hands roamed over her muscular arms, feeling her strength.

“Do you like my muscles, Nikki?”

“Yes, Sylvie. You’re so strong. You’re so powerful.”

“Do you want to be my princess, Nikki.”

“Yes, yes, please. I want to worship you and serve you.”

“Good girl. My muscles will always protect you. Do you understand.”

“Yes, master, I do.”

“And you’ll be a good girl for me.”

“Yes, master.”

“Master…” I said, cautiously, wrapping my thin, weak arms around her neck.

She looked at me, and said, “Yes, princess?”

I looked down and pouted my lip before saying, “Master, I’m… I’m… I’m a virgin. Please be gentle.”

She smiled and said, “Yes, my virgin girl. I’ll take you.”

She put one hand on my ass and another on my back and stood up, holding me like the small girl I was becoming. I kissed her muscles and breasts, worshipping her superior, amazonian body.

I was completely ensconced in her female power and strength. There was something even in her pheromones that drew me in and I felt I was being pulled into her orbit. I felt like a vassal waiting to be filled by this goddess. I wanted to worship her, to drink from her, to be taken by her.

She must have sensed how I felt because she soon lowered me onto the mattress and pulled down my bikini bottoms releasing my cock. Her strength was amazing and she moved me as if I was a doll. She soon mounted me and had pressed my hands above my head as she slid herself down my cock. The feeling was incredible. She stuck a tit in my mouth and rode my cock so hard that I thought she might break me in half. I held on for dear life, feeling her wet pussy milk my cock as her strong hips thrust into my torso. My arms grasped her firm, muscular shoulders and I threaded my hands together around her neck. When she lowered herself towards me I would kiss her strong body in tribute to her. I moaned as she fucked me.

I truly felt like a virgin slave girl being broken by her strong master. I wanted her to fill me up, to fuck me, to make her girl. My brain was lost in a fog of desire and sex and it was amazing. I wanted this feeling to last forever.

“I’ll take your cherry, my little princess.”

“Yes Sylvie, yes!”

It wasn’t long before her thrusts were accompanied by intense grunts and I could feel the wetness of her pussy dripping down onto me. She thrust so hard I tried to move with her but she continued to pound me into the mattress. In a matter of moments she stuck her tongue in my ear as she fucked me and shouted, “Cum for me, Nikki.”

We came in a wave of pleasure and screaming with me screaming “YES” and “Fuck me” again and again and again like a virgin bride. I felt her cum and her entire body shook with an intense orgasm that moved the bed beneath me. I followed almost immediately, shooting my burning hot cum into her pussy.

We lay there for a few moments before she turned to me and smiled.

“How was that?”

My eyes were half shut and I smiled back at her.

“That was amazing… master.”

“Are you ready to start your life as my princess?”

“Yes, master.”

“Good girl.”

Goddess

“Would you come in here and help me with this?” my wife called from the bedroom. I was in the middle of cleaning the bathrooms – something she had asked me to do that day – so I took off my rubber gloves, put down the sponge and shouted, “Sure, one sec.”

I was still wearing a cleaning apron as I walked down the hallway towards our bedroom but was taken aback by the vision in front of me.

Joanne was standing next to our bed in half-silhouette so I could see the curve of her hips, the front of her large breasts and her back. She was topless but wearing yoga pants and was about to put on her sports bra. My mouth dropped at the image of her combined strength and sexiness. Her breasts had always been large DDs, but with her newfound musculature they now stood higher and firmer on her chest, making her chest look particularly strong but also feminine and erotic. Her ass, likewise, had always been round and attractive but now it had a new firm strength, from all the time in the gym, that made it stick out even more with a round hardness. Her arms were defined in ways that I’d never noticed before, contours of muscle highlighted her biceps and thick shoulders. And her back was broader than before and layered with hard, thick muscle. Her black hair hung down slightly across her back in a sexy, erotic way – she had a wild look and I inadvertently licked my lips and stared at this goddess before me.

“Wow… you look… amazing.”

She turned to me and smiled, her large breasts moving slightly against her firm, flat stomach.

“Thanks, honey. But I can’t get this sports bra on. Can you help?”

Not so long ago, Joanne had started going to the gym not to lose weight but to gain strength. She wanted to ‘let loose my inner strength’ and she had definitely done that. She had taken to weight training and crossfit and had gone from being a good looking, fit woman to something resembling an amazonian warrior. People noticed it when we walked around, I saw men’s and women’s eyes linger on her new firmness, the svelte arms, the broader shoulders. She detected it too and she carried herself with a new confidence that suggested her power was affecting how she saw the others. There was a certain assertiveness in her new persona that I liked.

She turned away from me and handed me the bra as I walked up behind her.

There was something intoxicating about being this close to her while she stood naked in front of me. It was like her body was electric with new power and I was drawn to it. I also felt the contrast between us – I was standing there in my cleaning apron, feeling dowdy and small while she was an image of amazonian strength and sensuality.

I moved behind her and felt the size difference even more acutely: she had always been taller than me and her 4” height advantage felt especially pronounced given her new muscularity. I stood a reasonable, if slightly short, 5’7 while she was just shy of 6’. It had never bothered her before and she had often jokingly referred to me as her ‘little man’ but only in a gentle, teasing way. Standing behind her now I felt much smaller than my muscular wife.

We had first met in a night class and she had ended up sitting beside me, borrowed a pen, and we got to talking during the break. Back then she was certainly attractive, and had a great figure, skinny, fit, with large breasts, but nothing like the amazon she had become. We hit it off right away – she had a big personality and I was eager to listen, take everything in, and let her do more of the talking. It wasn’t until after the class, when we both stood up, that we realized the height difference between us. I assumed it would be a deal breaker for her, but it didn’t seem to bother her one bit and when I struck up the nerve to ask her out, she said yes. Joanne was amazing and always said that she never minded being taller than me.

She had taken the lead in our romantic life, bringing me to new restaurants, introducing me to her friends, and showing me parts of the city I had never seen before. Our sex life was good, if not great – I never lasted all that long but she never seemed to mind. Finally, about a year into our dating, she looked at me and asked ‘Are you ever going to ask me to marry me?’ A week later, I did and she said yes. We’ve been happy ever since.

I came out of my reverie and watched as she put her arms over her head -- I had to tiptoe to pull the bra over her arms. I then attempted to slide it over her shoulders while she adjusted it at the front but it was too tight. It just wouldn’t stretch over her broad shoulders.

Where before our height difference didn’t seem like such a big deal, now I felt smaller, more diminutive, more submissive in her presence. It was like her new muscles added to her height to make her seem like far more of a force. The evidence of the changes in her body was right in front of me as she tried to force this new body into her old clothing. There was something powerfully erotic in trying to watch her fit into a sports bra that had fit her once.

I thought about our early years together – she always had an amazing body that I worshipped. She would comment on how happy I was to put her pleasure first as I handled her large breasts and her sex. We would start in different positions but the sex would always end with her on top, riding my cock or my face until she came. I was more than happy watching her bounce those giant tits as she rode me.

It was almost a year ago that her irregular gym visits turned into something far more serious and intense. She started weight training and found it intoxicating. I remember her posing in front of the mirror about 6 months ago, flexing one of her biceps. It was significant and she smiled at me as the muscle popped from her arm. “What do you think?”

I reached up to stroke it and said, “Wow….” -- this led to some of our most intense lovemaking, with her riding my cock with a new intensity and ferocity.

But that Joanne was nothing compared to the woman who stood in front of me today. Weight training went from one day a week, to 5 days a week, and she was lifting more, and heavier weights. Small biceps became large, defined arms, her shoulders got larger, her calves were like diamonds when she walked, and her body in general was layered with a new hardness. In a manner of no time she’d transformed herself into an amazonian goddess. I hadn’t brought myself to say anything yet but she was sexier than she’d ever been.

It had affected our sex life too. Now when she would climb on top of me and pound on my dick, I’d look up at her body, see the chiseled abs topped by her large breasts, her arms up in her arm reveling in the pleasure, and her biceps, the size of grapefruits, popping. I’d see the thick veins in her arms and feel completely overwhelmed with desire. I would cum so quickly looking up at her – I couldn’t help myself.

“Even these yoga pants are getting tight,” she said, bringing me out of my daydream as she shimmied out of them, using her hands to push them down her legs. Her ass and legs were both incredible and I began get hard as I looked at her body. My eyes moved down from her shoulders to her back and the layers of muscle. I was feeling so aroused looking at her, almost intoxicated with her strength, I involuntarily reached out and touched her back muscles.

She stopped and turned around to look at me, her large breasts hanging just under my mouth. She looked at me with a smile and then looked down, noticing that I had an erection. All the reminiscing of how she had got this way, plus seeing her new body in the flesh had turned me on immensely.

“Oh, you like to see me naked, sweetie?”

I realized then that my heart was pounding and my face had gone red with desire.

“Joanne…you’re … incredible. You’re like something out of my fantasies.”

She smiled at the compliment and pressed her arms against her side to show off the combination of muscular power and feminine curves.

“Sometimes, I have a hard time remembering the old me,” she said, looking down at her body.

“I just love being strong, having these hard abs, these thick muscles, and this powerful body.” She took a second to feel her strong core.

“Some men couldn’t handle it, but I know you can. You’ve always been there for me, supporting me, helping me to be the best version of myself. That’s one thing I love about you.”

I repeated myself, “You look… amazing… Joanne.”

She smiled at me with kindness and said, “A little lost for words eh?”

She stepped towards me and said, “Let me show you my appreciation,” and put her an arm behind my back, and pulled me into her, “I do look amazing, don’t I?”

I was trapped in her embrace, not that I wanted to escape it, but I couldn’t have even if I’d wanted to. She kissed me full on the lips while squeezing my ass with one hand. I melted into her powerful body. Her large breasts were pressed against me, just below my chin and I could feel her firm abs against my soft tummy, her powerful legs pressed up against me. Her body felt like warm, curvaceous steel.

She pulled me with more force against her and jammed one of her thick thighs between my legs. I could feel the taut muscles of her legs, the heat of her body pressing against my own soft, yielding flesh. I was tempted to just sit on it, to ride the muscles of her powerful thigh until I came. I looked up at her with weak, yearning desire.

“You like that, don’t you little man? You like to feel my strong leg between your soft thighs.”

“Oh, yes, Joanne. You’re so hot, so strong. You look…”

“How do I look, sweetie?” she asked, as she grabbed my dick with her hand. Her hand was strong and hot and she was pulling me to a full erection with a few strokes. I was so turned on I could’ve cum right there.

I whispered, “You look incredible…”

“Like what?”

I thought for a second, “Like an amazon…”

“An amazon?”

“An amazon goddess…” I replied with heavy breath.

“I like that sweetie. I like you to think of me as your goddess.” She was running her tongue along my ear and biting it with a little force. Her thick leg was still positioned between mine and I could feel my hard cock pressing against her powerful thigh.

“Do you want me to be your goddess?”

“Yes, Joanne, yes.”

She flexed her bicep in front of me and it absolutely exploded, a small bowling ball of female muscle. I lunged forward and put my lips on her powerful arm and began to kiss her strength.

“Yes, worship your goddess.”

“You see how strong I’m getting little man?”

“Mmmm… yes, you’re amazing.”

“It feels so good to be strong, to be powerful. Do you like me like this?”

“Yes, Joanne. You’re incredible. I’m so lucky.”

“Yes, you are. Call me goddess.”

“Mmmm,.. yes goddess.”

“I love the looks people give me, the way I see them tracing the muscles in my body. I love how they lust after me.”

“Because you’re so amazing, Joanne. You’re so strong and sexy.”

“Yes, I know little one.”

“I’ve always felt this part of your personality, this desire to have me lead, but maybe this is a new chapter for us? Maybe you can worship me like a goddess. Would you like that?”

I was drowning in the waves of sex and desire and could only mutter, “Mmmm, yes.”

She brought her arm down to her side. I could see, from her heavy breathing and her hard nipples, how aroused she was. This was new territory for the both of us and we clearly were loving it.

“Why don’t you get on your knees and show your goddess your devotion?”

I followed her instructions and sank to my knees in front of her. It felt right to look up to her with eyes of worship and devotion.

She placed her hands on the wall in front of me, putting me at eye level with her wet pussy and engorged clit. I knew what to do and brought my face to her pussy and began to lick eagerly. She moaned with desire as I did so.

“Good boy. You understand.”

“I feel so powerful and desired with you on your knees. That’s where you belong, isn’t it little man?”

“MmmmmHmmmm,” I replied, with her clit in my mouth.

“I’ll become your real goddess and you can worship me as proof of your devotion, your service and submission to me. Will you do that?”

“MmmmmHmmmm,” I said again.

She groaned a deep guttural sound as I took her clit in my mouth.

“Ohhhh yes… you’re so good at that. That’s where you belong, little man.”

“Even when you tried to fuck me, sweetie, you wouldn’t last long. I know why too…” she paused. It was true – ever since she had gotten stronger I would cum so quickly when we fucked. “It’s because your brain knows that you’re a beta who somehow gets to fuck an alpha, someone bigger, stronger, your superior, your goddess. Your brain knows that you better spill your seed quickly before I realize how weak you are and decide to make you stop. And then you realize you can’t please me with your dick like you want to and so I’m more likely to make you stop.”

I was licking furiously as she spoke. I reached for me dick, listening to her words that were equally humiliating and arousing. I felt so turned on by her body, her words, her power. We’d never explored this aspect of our relationship before but it appealed to me on a deep level – her words were so hot and so true.

“I think I’ve just gotten so strong and powerful that you can’t do anything than worship me. Isn’t that right little man?”

“Ohhhh yes, Joanne.”

“Say, yes, goddess.”

“Yes goddess,” I said, licking furiously, pulling my dick out of my pants.

I was about to pull my masturbate but Joanne wrapped one of her strong, thick legs around my head and squeezed my head, pulling it into her crotch.

“Don’t touch your dick. Focus on me.”

I followed her instruction and raised both hands towards her breasts, playing with her nipples as I sucked at her sex.

I could feel her getting wetter and wetter as I licked her but suddenly she stepped back from me and looked down at me. She looked like a statue of female power, carved out of granite, her clit engorged, almost throbbing, with desire.

“Tell me.”

My heart was pounding and I was so aroused but was following her instruction not to touch myself. I considered what she was asking and then said, “Tell you … what?”

“Tell me how you feel. Worshipping me.”

The words came out of me in a flood. “I feel so small next to you. You’re so powerful, so tall. Everything you said is true. I feel like your subservient beta, here to serve you, to worship your strength and every desire. I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to get to lick your pussy. I want to bury my face in your sex and drink your cum.”

I could see her chest heaving and she started fingering herself as I spoke.

“You will… You’re so weak next to me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, goddess.”

“You worship my muscles, my strength, my dominance.”

“Yes, goddess.”

“Are you even a man compared to me?”

“No goddess. I’m not a man, I’m a servant, a weak boy who lives to please you.”

She smiled at me, gave me a wicked look, and jammed her crotch back in my face. “Suck.”

I followed her instructions, taking her clit in my mouth as my hands ran up and down her powerful legs. I dug my fingers into the steel of her muscle and it didn’t budge but I could feel her flex to ensure I felt just how strong she was.

My dick was as hard as a rock, standing at attention in front of me, but I didn’t touch it.

In no time, I felt her body begin to gyrate and pulsate with sexual release and she came in a powerful orgasm. Her strong hands jammed my mouth against her sex and she rubbed her clit against my face. I felt like less of a participant and more like a human sex toy – in a moment she screamed in orgasm and my mouth was filled with her cum.

I licked and slurped, worshipping at her sex until she pulled away. I then looked up at her and slid my raging hard cock out of my pants and began to masturbate myself. I was so turned on, it wouldn’t take me long…

“Wait,” she said, kneeling on the floor with me.

I stopped and she took my cock in her strong hand. Even kneeling, she was taller than me and I was bursting with desire as my eyes traced the contours of her powerful body. My cock throbbed with every heartbeat -- I was so incredibly aroused.

I waited for her to masturbate me, but she just held it in her warm, strong grip.

She looked at me intensely and deep into my eyes, “Worshippers of ancient goddesses would sacrifice something as a testament of their devotion.” She squeezed my cock firmly.

“Yass…” I said as I longed for her to just provide the necessary friction that would send me over the edge of my orgasm.

“I want you,” she paused, “to be celibate. To not cum. To show me an act of self-sacrifice and devotion to your goddess.”

My mind was spinning with desire and it took me a second to realize what she was asking.

“I need… I need to cum…” I panted.

“Yes, I know little man.” She squeezed again. I was right on the edge.

“But if you don’t cum. Sacrifice your own needs, closet your masculinity, and show your devotion to me, it will show me that you really do see me as your goddess.”

She released my cock, it stood erect between us.

“If you don’t cum, I’ll know that you really do worship me, that I really am your goddess.”

“I…” I was breathless, panting, sweating with desire. I just wanted one more stroke.

“Can you do that sweetie?”

I looked into her eyes, her knowing, wise eyes and thought of our life together and how much she had brought me. I really did worship her. She really was my goddess.

“Yeh….Yes…” I said.

She smiled, a radiant conquering smile of the goddess I saw her as.

“Good boy.” She lay down and pulled me to her. Was she relenting?

“Nurse from me,” and she pulled my head into her breast. I licked and licked, yearning for more contact and for her to touch my cock once more. My hand rested against her hard, flat stomach, feeling the muscles beneath

“It’s so hot to see you be celibate for me, to deny your own pleasure and focus on mine. It shows your capacity to worship and be devoted. Thank you, my sweet little man.”

She was rubbing her clit once again and continued, “I love the way you worship my sex and my muscles. Your eyes tell me everything when they look at my powerful body – how much you want me take you, to conquer you.”

“Yassss…” I moaned, with her nipple in my mouth. In no time she was in the throes of orgasm, pressing my head against her swollen breast. I licked and sucked, all the time, my cock throbbing with no release.

She came again and we lay on the floor. My cock was pounding in my pants but I knew what she expected: total devotion.

“Thank you for sacrificing for me. It is such a turn on and a commitment to your worship. I’ll repay your gift by becoming a goddess worthy of your worship. I’ll grow my muscles even more and you’ll continue to worship me like the good little man you are.”

I looked up at her and smiled, knowing that she knew best.

“When can I cum, Joanne?”

“Oh you’ll cum my sweet, but I’ll direct you, control you, teach you how to cum in new ways.”

My throbbing cock screamed, touch me, pull me, be a man and cum but my new identity knew that I must obey. So I simply nodded, and smiled, resting my head on her breast.

Goddess knows best.

Babysitter Part 3

Carey sized me up with a smile and said, “Wow, you look really great.” “Have a look in the mirror.” Once again I took in her size and strength, feeling equal parts intimidated and secure in her presence.

I turned away from her and looked at myself in the mirror once again. She was right: I really did look good. From a distance, I would definitely be taken for a girl. My legs were slender and soft, my shoulders narrow, and even my facial features, never all that masculine to begin with, had taken on a feminine appearance under the wig. I really did look convincing… I was thinking about all of this and checking myself out in the mirror when I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that Carey was doing something.

I turned to her to look and was mortified to see that she had her phone in her hand and had taken a few pictures.

“Hey! Stop!!” I shouted, moving towards her and putting my hand up towards the phone.

I reached towards the phone but she raised it up above me where I couldn’t reach and saw that she was taking a video.

“Why do you want me to stop? Come on, you look so great.”

I reached up and feebly tried to grab the phone but she was so much taller than me that I couldn’t reach at all. The whole situation was immediately humiliating as I realized how she now had footage of me dressed as a schoolgirl. I felt weak and desperate, trying to get the phone even though it was clearly beyond my grasp.

“Oh, she can’t reach,” she said with a wicked, mocking laugh.

I felt ridiculous, trying to reach up to grab the phone, straining my body upwards, my thin arms reaching and grabbing her larger forearms but not being able to budge them at all.

“Please…” I said in desperation but to no avail.

She held the phone in one hand, capturing my futile struggle, and then placed her other larger, firm hand on my chest and pushed me away. I fell backwards, onto the bed, my schoolgirl skirt flying up slightly, revealing my white panties in the process.

I looked up at her with pleading eyes, “Please, don’t.”

She looked down at me, standing over 6’ tall and looking like a tower of feminine strength in her Chun Li outfit. With her hair tied in buns and the structure of her outfit she looked intimadting and domineering. Her face was a mixture of kindness and severity, although I could see her sympathy returning.

“Oh come on, Princess Serenity. Just say hi to the camera.”

“Princess… what?” I asked with confusion.

“That’s Sailor Moon’s real name. Her real identity. Come on, just say hi, I’m Princess Serenity.”

I looked at her and said “I…”

She arched her eyebrow, “Once you say it, I’ll stop filming.”

I sighed, feeling my heart pounding in my chest. I swallowed and looked into the camera.

“Hi, I’m Princess Serenity,” I said in surrender.

She smiled at me and turned off the recording

“What the hell, Carey?!? I didn’t want you to do that!”

“Oh come on, don’t be a baby about it. It’s just a funny little video. Besides, this is just a little insurance to make sure you follow through on your promise.”

“But I don’t like having that video out there.”

She crossed over the room and sat down on the bed next to me. I had never seen her in a dress like this before: she was colossal in her costume – her legs looked thick and strong and I felt the bed sway heavily when she sat down. Her movements on the bed rocked my body back and forth so that I really did feel like a child next to a larger adult, having to continually remind myself that she was larger.

She smiled down at me, bearing down on me with an intense gaze: “It won’t be out there. It’ll just be our little secret. So long as you’re good… princess.”

There was something mischievous in the way she let ‘Princess’ hang in the air but I was too scared to ask what she meant.

I tried to switch the topic, “Please, can I get changed now?”

“First, I want to try a little bit of makeup on you. To practice for the big day.”

My heart was pounding… “No, please.”

“Princess, don’t argue with me. No one will know and we won’t have time to get it right before we actually go to the event.”

She stood up, shaking the bed in the process. “Come.”

It was an order, not a suggestion and I quietly, submissively, stood up and walked after her. She led and I followed and there was a part of me that felt like that was OK. My eyes traced her back and the sheer width of her made my heart flutter. I looked at the size of her back as I followed her into the washroom and was amazed at her size. It was hard to believe that she was younger than me by almost two years.

We stepped into the bathroom and she pulled out a case of makeup.

“Please Carey… I don’t want to.”

But she just smiled at me and said, “If you’re going to be a convincing Sailor Moon, you’re going to need to look a little more girlish. Now, hop up on the bench and I’ll do your make up. It won’t take me long.”

I looked up at her with pleading eyes – how had I shifted into asking her permission so easily – but she didn’t budget. Her face said that she expected my compliance so after a second I did as she instructed, angling my butt against the counter and then pushing my body onto the ledge. My legs swung in the air, making me feel even smaller, controlled, and diminutive.

She pulled out some light foundation and applied it, followed by blush. I looked up at her as she worked on my features: her concentration was total and there was intense focus in her looks. Her black eyebrows were arched and she was looking at my appearance closely and carefully. She loomed over me, looking statuesque in front of me and had to bend down to apply the makeup. I felt like clay in her hands, being reshaped and remolded by this young woman.

My eyes shifted from her neck to her wide shoulders to her thick legs and I felt like so small next to her. Her calf muscles flexed ever so slightly in the boots and I realized the strength that lay dormant in her large body. I was sweating… My heart was beating intensely as I felt the powder being pressed against my cheeks. I felt humiliated but also, secure and safe in her care. Despite everything that felt wrong about the situation, there was part of me that wanted to curl up at her feet, to succumb to this growing feeling of being taken care of, being controlled, being owned.

“Close your eyes sweetie,” she said in a quiet voice and I silently did as she asked. I felt her applying the mascara to my eyes.

Then a few seconds later, “Pout your lips, sweetie.” And I quietly did as she asked. I felt the lipstick pressing against my lips. It felt invasive, the tube being pressed hard against my pink opening. She ran it slowly across my lips once, twice, and a third time.

“OK, Princess, you’re ready. Open your eyes and take a look.”

I opened my eyes and looked up at her. It was like she had matured beyond her years, or had I regressed in some way? In this short period of time, I had become her dependant, the smaller weaker one.

I slid off the counter, feeling even smaller next to her amazonian proportions. In her boots I barely reached her chin. I turned around and surveyed myself in the mirror.

It was undeniable: I was a girl. An attractive girl at that. The combination of makeup, the wig, the outfit… The mascara gave my eye lashes a feminine look and the blush was subtle but added subtle feminine allure to my rosy cheeks. The lipstick was a subtle red and suggested both a feminine innocence and a sluttiness underneath the surface. It was incredible. I looked like a girl.

“Wow, you look so good, sweetie!”

“I… I…” I was speechless.

“What do you think?”

“It’s … I look…”

“You are such a convincing Princess.” She said, as she smiled down at me.

We looked like a complete opposite pair: she was a towering image of female strength, a strength made all the more apparent by the weak, feminine figure next to her… me. She looked stronger, older, more of an adult than I was. I could see the difference in our legs and arms – hers were long and thick while mine were small and weak. I felt positively humiliated.

“I can’t go out like this…” I said weakly but she had predicted my resistance.

“Oh, no backing out Princess. Come on. You look totally convincing and besides,” she pulled out her phone, “don’t forget I have this insurance policy.”

I looked up at her again with pleading eyes, “Please, Carey. Please don’t make me.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and I felt my stomach drop slightly like I was in trouble. “Listen, I’ve told you that you’re going out as my Sailor Moon and you’re doing it. You don’t have any say in the matter. OK, Princess?”

I was silent.

“I said, OK, Princess?”

I was beaten, “OK.”

She smiled and I could see a thought developing as she surveyed me again. “Come on, get into the role I’d like you to say, OK Ms. Carey…” she paused for a second and then continued, “and curtsey.”

“Really!!?”

“Yes, really.”

I couldn’t resist any longer, “OK, Ms. Carey” and I did my best, shame-laced curtsey.

She smiled again and took a second to size me up.

“I know you can learn to be a good Princess, or even my little sister. Would you like that?”

“I don’t…”

She put a hand under my chin and raised it to look at her. “Do you think I’m really asking Princess?”

I understood, “I’d like to be a good little sister, Ms. Carey.”

She beamed into a smile, “Good girl.”

She was clearly revelling in the power she had over me and wanted to rub it in: “You see, you might be a boy, an older boy, but we can pretend a little bit and you can be my sweet little sister. I’ll take care of you and teach you so much. Does that sound good, Princess?”

“Yes, Ms. Carey.”

“Good girl.” She released my chin but I continued looking up into her dark eyes.

“Genetics don’t lie sweetie. I’m a year and a half younger than you, but much taller, and look… It’s been a few days and you’re dressing like a good little sister at my direction so I’m clearly much better at asserting myself. So it’s best that you follow my instructions. Right, Princess?”

My stomach turned with anxiety but I knew she was right, “Yes, Ms. Carey.”

“You’re such a quick learner. Good girl.”

“But… I can’t stay like this Ms. Carey.”

“Oh, I know sweetie. This will just be our little secret for when it’s the two of us. And it’ll stay our secret so long as you’re a good Princess.”

She continued, “Now, why don’t we play some video games? Does that sound good?”

Such relief – “Yes, please!”

“Yes, please, what?”

“Yes, please, Ms. Carey. … I’ll just get changed.”

“Oh no, sweetie, no need to get changed. Come on, you can play as little sister.”

I silently acquiesced and we moved over to the gaming console. We sat on the carpet together and try as I might, she kept beating me. I don’t know if it was the clothing, the feeling of humiliation, or my sense of submission but I couldn’t play the game as well as once did. Where I would normally be upset and annoyed at losing it felt… OK. Sitting next to her, seeing her thick thighs extending out on the carpet alongside my slender legs tucked under my skirt, I felt like I should defer to her. She loomed so large in my mind, so much bigger and more assertive. I felt like I was naturally sliding into the beta role, or had been pushed into it by her. She won the round 5-0 in no time. It felt right for her to beat me.

She looked over at me with a comforting smile, “That’s OK. Maybe this just isn’t your game.”

I looked up at her and she smiled again. “Tomorrow, we’re going to ComicCon and I’ll expect you to be in your Princess costume. OK?”

“Yes, Ms. Carey.”

“Now do you want to get changed back into your boy clothes.”

“Yes, Ms. Carey.”

“Then just ask, Princess.”

“Please, Ms. Carey, may I get changed into my boy clothes?”

“Yes, Princess.”

The Babysitter Part 2

As the school year came to a close, I was both looking forward to and worried about Carey being my babysitter all summer. I had to admit, I liked having her around: she was cool and fun and projected a maturity that put her beyond her years. At the same time, the whole arrangement was kind of weird and humiliating. I thought about her height, her self-confidence, and how cool she seemed, especially compared to me. I tried to put her out of my head but she would keep creeping back into my mind once and while. 

Eventually, the school year ended and summer arrived. On the first day of summer, Carey appeared at my house around 8:30 in the morning, just before my Mom was going to head to work. I was still in my pyjamas and moving slowly, Carey was in short red shorts and a tank top and looked the part of a 17 year old girl. She wasn’t overly muscular or anything but she was strong and had long legs and thicker arms than me. I could see the difference between her 5’11 and my diminutive size and it made me feel… something. My eyes lingered over their thickness as she came into the house and I thought about the contrast between us. She filled the space whereas I always felt like I was shrinking away.

“Hi Michael!” she said with a wave as she came into the house.

“Hi.”

She and my Mom chatted for a bit in a low tone in the hallway and although I tried to listen in, I could only make out a few words. My Mom was telling her the snacks I was allowed to have, how much video games I could play, and so on. I felt a little annoyed, and it felt somewhat humiliating to be cut out of this conversation but I just moved around the kitchen getting my cereal.

“OK, bye Michael. Be good for Carey!” my Mom shouted and I heard the door shut behind her.

Carey came into the kitchen, leaning against the door frame, and smiled at me, “Hey, how’s it going?” 

“Fine…” I said, without looking up.

“Hey, did you want to play some video games this morning?”

“Sure!” I said, enthusiastically.

I looked up at her and noticed her broad smile and decided to just enjoy the day and not worry about my own feelings of humiliation.

We went into the living room and she sat on the floor with her long legs bent in a way that made me feel like she was taking up the whole room. I sat beside her, cross-legged, and felt like a child next to her. We played games together but I would occasionally look down and see the thickness of her thighs – she was just so much bigger than me. It didn’t help that she was really good, which only made me feel smaller. She was so much taller than me that even sitting side by side, it felt like I was looking up to her.

As we played more games, she’d lean over to give me advice, her body pressing against me slightly. Once she killed my character and she laughed, leaning against me and I felt the bulk of her torso, so much stronger than mine. Her size was intimidating, and I strangely found myself deferring to her instructions as though her size and her confidence were reason enough for me to follow her orders. It was strange feeling so small and powerless next to a girl who was younger than me. Every time she’d move or lean over, I’d feel a little more intimidated, a little more like I was her charge.

The day continued like that and we ended up having fun. After a few hours, I asked her if it was OK if I rode my bike over to a friend’s house. She said it was so long as I was back by 3 and I agreed without thinking twice about the rule she had arbitrarily imposed. 

I headed over to my friend Dave’s house and told him I needed to be back mid-afternoon. He asked why but I lied, saying I had some stuff to take care of at home. 

Dave was a bit of a burn out: a nice enough guy but not particularly going anywhere. I’d smoked weed with him a few times so it wasn’t much of a surprise when he pulled out a bag of marijuana. We chatted as he rolled a joint and we smoked it together. 

It was nice weed and I was feeling pretty buzzed but not too stoned. 

When I got back, I was feeling a bit floaty, and Carey immediately knew something was up. I went into the kitchen to get a snack and she came into the doorway and looked at me. She loomed large in the frame of the door and the weed was definitely having an effect as I slowly looked up from her large thighs to her midriff to her face. Did she look… older? She looked at me, puzzled, and asked what was wrong, staring at my suspiciously. 

I looked down at my shoes and said, “Nothing.”

“Come on Michael. Something is up. You’re acting strange.”

I looked up at her and felt… well, like a little kid who was in trouble. I know she was younger but she was just so much bigger, and her presence and confidence made me forget our age difference. Something about her standing there, filling the doorway, looking down at me that made me want to confess.

“Well, Dave and I smoked a little weed. I think I’m still a little buzzed.”

Her eyes went wide, “You what?!?! You shouldn’t be doing that!! That’s terrible.”

“What? It’s not such a big deal. It’s a little weed.”

“It IS a big deal, Michael!” 

She crossed her arms across her chest, her eyes narrowed and she stepped towards me and leaned down so her face was level with mine, “I don’t want you doing that while I’m here. It’s my job to keep you safe and you’re not going to do anything stupid like that again, do you understand me?” 

“I--- listen…”

“Do you understand?”

I pushed back: “It’s not a big deal! Lots of people smoke weed.”

“OK, so you wouldn’t mind me telling your mother?”

I stepped back. She was very close to me and I felt… intimidated. I felt small in front of her.

“Come on, you wouldn’t do that. Why would you?”

“Michael, you’re my responsibility. And to be honest, the more I see, the more I realize that you’re not mature enough to take responsibility for yourself. You need someone to direct you.”

I was speechless.

She continued, “You might be older, but you’re far less mature than me.” 

She let that hang in the air before continuing.  “If you agree not to do it again, I won’t tell your mother.”

“Come on Carey it’s..”

“No arguing. Agree or I’ll tell her.”

I was silent for a second. My Mom would flip out if she knew I was smoking weed. I exhaled, feeling the sense of defeat. 

“Fine.”

Carey stood up straight again and said, “Don’t say, fine. Say, yes, I agree.”

I paused before replying, “Yes, I agree.”

A small smile crept across her face, “Good.”

She stepped further into the kitchen and stood close to me before talking. I was eye level with her collarbone and felt the intense contrast between us. I subtly eyed one of her large thighs and thought, it had to be as thick as my waist.

“You know that stuff stunts your growth, right?”

She was standing two feet in front of me, looking down. My only options were to either stare into her torso or crane my neck and look up at her. I slowly looked up into her eyes. I felt intimidated, controlled, safe…

“No, it doesn’t,” I replied weakly.

She raised her eyebrows, “Yeah, it does. It affects you mentally, giving kids anxiety and stress and difficulty in social situations. But it can also stunt your growth.”

I was silent.

“Maybe that’s why you’re so small, Michael? Did you ever wonder?”

I felt a mixed sense of humiliation and arousal as she spoke to me. My heart was racing and I had flutters in my stomach. I was so close to this young amazon and could feel the size difference between us. To add to that, she was speaking down to me, telling me what I already partially knew and I think she was enjoying the power difference between us. I might have been older than her but she was clearly in charge. 

“Hey, I’ve only done it a few times.”

“Do you want to stay small forever?”

“I… no…”

“I mean, you’re older than me, but look who’s bigger. Look who’s in charge?”

I was getting uncomfortable. “That’s not because of weed.”

“Isn’t it, Michael?”

She threaded her hands behind her head, exuding confidence. I could see the muscle in her arms flexing as she did so and I felt … intimidated.

There was something animal in what she was doing, showing me her strength, her size, her dominance. Her presence in the room was expanding and I was diminishing.

She continued with a slight whisper, “It’s all the same thing Michael. Smoking weed, acting immature… it’s all holding you back.”

“I… I don’t…” I didn’t know what to say. I felt cornered in the kitchen just like I felt cornered by her arguments. The weed was making my head swim and her size… 

“Well if you want to grow up and be as tall as me, you shouldn’t do it anymore.”

My face went red with embarrassment. I felt like a small kid being chastised by an older girl.

“I promise not to do it anymore.”

She placed a hand under my chin and smiled, “Good.”

I hurried out the kitchen, trying to escape her and find a place where I wouldn’t feel so intimidated. She called out, “I’ll get dinner started. You need to eat if you want to grow.”

I watched TV after what felt like an eternity, she called me into the kitchen. The table was set with plates and silverware and she had even folded a napkin into a little square. She had made spaghetti with a side of garlic bread. The sight of it made my mouth water.

“Come on, Michael. Dinner’s ready.”

I sat down, looking at the plate of food that was placed in front of me. It felt like a form of punishment, like she was feeding me because she had to, not because she wanted to.

“Eat up, it’s good for you,” she said as she sat opposite me, with a smile. 

The conversation was good and we seemed to be friends again. When my Mom arrived back at the house, Carey left with a smile and a wave. 

The next morning, she arrived just as my Mom was stepping out the front door. Carey was wearing tan, khaki shorts and a white t-shirt and was carrying a backpack. Her thighs looked thick and strong and I did my best not to fixate on her powerful legs. 

She came up to me in my room with a smile, “Morning! Hey, can I ask you for a favor?”

I smiled back, “Sure. What is it?”

“I was going to ComicCon later this week with my friend Sarah and we were going to dress and Chun Li and Sailor Moon but Sarah’s sick…”

“And?”

“Well… will you go with me?” she raised her eyebrows hopefully.

I thought about it for a second and decided ComicCon would be fun, so why not. 

“Sure.”

“Thanks but that’s not the favor… I need someone to dress as Sailor Moon.”

My eyes went wide. “Are you kidding? Absolutely not!”

She put her hands on her hip. “Come on. What’s the big deal?”

“What’s the big deal?!?! I’m not dressing like that! In a skirt! Like a girl!” I shouted.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You act like it’s such a bad thing. Lots of guys dress in drag when they’re in cosplay. Girls too. It’s not such a big deal.”

I backed away from her, “No way. I’m not doing it. Besides, why would I?”

“Well, Sarah is basically your size and the costume would fit you perfectly.”

She stepped behind me and I could feel her looming over me, taller and bigger. 

“No way! Not a chance.”

“Would it make you feel better if I dressed in drag too? I could dress as a guy.”

“Um… NO. That would NOT make me feel better. Forget it.” I turned away from her.

She ignored my protests and continued, “How about this? What if I could dress you so well that no one would know you’re a boy? You would look just like a real Sailor Moon?”

I turned around to face her but found myself staring at her neck. I stepped back and craned my head to look up at her.

“Are you kidding?!? I don’t want that. I’m not doing it.”

I began to step back but she put a firm hand on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. She didn’t look especially strong, but she was clearly stronger than me.

“Michael, come on. You can help me out with this.”

I pulled away, “No I can’t!”

“Well, didn’t I help you out by not telling your Mom about you taking drugs?”

She wouldn’t… “You promised you wouldn’t say anything! It’s not drugs… it’s weed. It barely counts.”

“Weed is still a drug, Michael.”

“Come on, we had a deal!” 

She looked at me sternly. “We didn’t have a deal. I just agreed not to tell your Mom. Now we’re making a deal. Do me this favour and I won’t tell her.” 

I was silent.

“You don’t have a choice in this Michael. Do as I say or I’ll tell her.”

I felt cornered, cowed, and scared. She had thought of everything. What choice did I have? It kept happening – she pushed me into a corner, and I agreed to what she asked. She just seemed to be in control all of the time. 

Standing in front of her, with her in command of my life, I felt small and insignificant. In her shorts and white t-shirt she looked thick and powerful – it was hard to imagine that I was almost two years older than her. Even more, she was confident and assured where I was weak and unsure. She had taken command of the situation and I had no choice except to follow her instructions. I swallowed.

“OK, if you insist.”

She smiled at me, “I do insist.” Then, changing her tone, “Come on, it’s going to be fun. Let’s see you try on the costume.”

“Now?” 

“Yes, now. Come on!” 

She handed me the backpack and told me to try on the clothes. “I’ll go and get changed in the bathroom” she shouted as she walked down the hall. “Don’t delay Michael!”

I begrudgingly opened the backpack and looked at the contents. First I pulled out a white blouse with a red bow attached at the front, then a pair of right boots that looked like they would come up to my knees, then a blonde wig with two ponytails at the back, and finally, a short blue skirt. I held the skirt in my hands… what had I got myself into? Was I actually going to do this? My heart was racing and my hands were sweating with anticipation.

As if predicting my doubts, Carey shouted from the bathroom, “Hurry up. I want to see.”

I slipped off my boy clothes and put on the white top and then pulled up the skirt. I couldn’t believe how short it was, I could feel the air through my boxers and it barely covered my ass. Finally, I stepped into the boots – they fit perfectly. I looked at myself in the full length mirror and was surprised at how well it all fit. I looked like a boyish Sailor Moon. My size fit the character – my legs were already smooth and thin – I actually looked pretty good! 

I was shook out of my reverie when Carey cracked open the bedroom door and peered in before opening it completely. 

“Oh, wow, you look amazing!” she exclaimed with glee as she stepped through the doorway.

She looked incredible herself and we were a study in contrasts. She was in a Chun Li outfit with the blue, silk warrior dress slit on either side: her long legs looking thick and strong. Her hair was in a dual bun in the style of the character, complete with chop sticks, giving her an intense and severe look. She was wearing white boots with a heel that easily brought her to 6’ tall. Her costume had padded shoulders and cut off sleeves that emphasized her upper body strength and size but also gave her a look of confident svelteness. I noticed the thickness of her arms in the costume. My heart was pounding at the situation… what were we doing?!

She walked across the room and stood behind me: towering over me and I felt like a small girl in front of a large, powerful woman. I glanced back at the mirror and saw myself as a picture of demure femininity in my school girl outfit with red boots and white blouse. The short skirt added to my feeling of vulnerability and barely covered by pale, thin thighs. My legs were thin and reedy, truly girlish, and my eyes moved from my slip of a body to the thick pillars of her legs that extended out on either side of my reflection. I felt weak, exposed, and feminine. 

She moved closer to me in the mirror, her small breasts even with my head. “You forgot one thing,” and with that she reached into the bag and placed the blonde wig on my head, styling it so it sat securely on my head.

“I… I’m not sure about this, Carey.” I said, looking back at my self in the mirror.

She was so tall I couldn’t even see her face, just the tower of feminine strength that stood behind me, dwarfing me and taking control of the situation.

“You look so good!” she said. “Honestly, you look even more like Sailor Moon than Sarah. Sarah is a little too… I don’t know… big. You fit the costume perfectly. Once I help you with the makeup no one will ever know you’re a boy.”

“Makeup!?!” I exclaimed. 

“Of course. You can’t go without doing your makeup.” 

“Come on…”

She didn’t acknowledge, my protest, but continued, “Also, you know, you can’t wear that costume with regular underwear.”

“What do you mean!?! Why not?”

I turned to look at her. The combination of her height, the severity of the costume, her strength… My eyes were drawn to her arms and I could see the faint outline of a muscle in her forearms. I had never had strength like that. How could she be younger than me when I felt like a child?

She smiled down at me, like an adult comforting a scared child: “Well do you want people to know that you’re a boy?”

“No…”

“Then you need to put these on,” she held up a pair of white pink girl’s panties. 

“I… I… can’t..”

“Come on. What’s the big deal. You totally can.” 

“I…”

“If you had worn a skirt before, maybe you’d know how to walk, how to move, how to bend over, so no one would see what’s underneath. But you haven’t ever done this before… have you?” 

She asked the question with a raised eyebrow and a broad smile.

“NO!” I replied.

“That’s what I thought. So then you are for sure going to show a little bit of underwear. If you want people to see your boxers and see that you’re a boy, wear those. If not, you need to wear these.” And with that she handed me the undergarments.

“Come on, quickly now. Just slide off the boy underwear and slide those up your legs. Good boy.”

I was too defeated to argue and I saw her amused smile grow as I took the panties from her.

“I’ll look away,” she said with a smile and turned back. I saw that the back of the dress was cut away and her back looked wide and strong. Not overly muscular, but she was far bigger than me.

I sighed, and quickly slid my boxers down my legs, almost falling in the feels. I then stepped into the panties and slid them up my legs. They were surprisingly comfortably although they pulled my penis and balls into a bit of a tight package and ensconced my ass. It was weird – if I felt exposed beforehand, now I felt completely humiliated. But there was something erotic about the experience and as I surveyed myself in the mirror, the blonde wig, the feel of the panties around my dick, the skirt, and the blouse… there was no question: I looked like a cute girl dressed as Sailor Moon.

“OK, I’m ready,” I said. 

The Babysitter

It was near the end of the school year, almost the summer, and I was about to turn 16 and my Mom had told me that she was going to be away a lot. It was just the two of us – I had never known my dad – and she was a bit overprotective. I wasn’t happy or particularly surprised when she said I would still need a babysitter. 

“Mom, I’m basically 16!! I can stay on my own.”

“Honey, you’re still too young. You’re still only 15. Maybe when you’re 16 but you’re not there yet.”

She said it with such comfort and warmth that I knew her heart was in the right place but I still felt annoyed about the whole thing. She told me that she would be home late that night – she worked in a bank and often had client meetings and events that went late – so that she had arranged for a babysitter to come to the house around the time I got home from school. I tried to argue but she insisted and was soon out the door headed to work. 

She meant well, of course, but the whole thing was kind of embarrassing. None of my other friends still needed a babysitter but she was overly protective. Probably because it was just the two of us, but  I couldn’t shake the feeling that part of her protectiveness had to do with my stature or lack of stature. I was 15, set to be 16 in two months, but I was still only 5’2. I had never been ‘the short kid’ when I was younger but now almost all of the other kids in school had shot up as they hit puberty. I kept hoping that I would too but so far… nothing. It seemed like each month went by and I was more and more noticeably smaller than the other kids. Friends who had been around my height, girls who I had liked, were now a head taller than me. Even some of the kids in younger grades would mistake me for being younger than them. It was becoming a real issue.

Earlier that week I had been wandering through the halls of the school when I walked past a group of girls standing in front of a locker. They were three blondes that I didn’t recognize, wearing baggy jeans and oversized sweatshirts. They were all giggling together but became silent as I approached. One of them spoke to me, 

“Hey, sweetie. Are you lost?”

I looked at them but didn’t speak.

Another one talked, “Are you here to see your big brother or sister? You should ask for them at the office.”

I was confused and quickly replied, with an annoyed tone, “No… I’m going to Mr. Jacobs’ class.” 

The lead girl looked at me again and went slightly red in the face. She was pretty with her blonde hair down to her shoulders. She wasn’t particularly tall but stood a few inches taller than me. 

“I’m sorry… I thought you were… well… younger.”

They thought I was a kid lost in the halls of a high school!

I stamped away, feeling embarrassed. As I did so, I heard one of them say, “… can’t believe he’s older than us…”

I started to go red too … those girls were in grade 9 but they assumed I was younger than them! This kind of thing was happening more and more and it was a strangely humiliating feeling, always being treated like a kid and ignored by girls my own age.

I had mostly forgotten the experience by the end of the day and was feeling good as I was walking home that afternoon. When I got to the driveway to our house, a girl was sitting on our porch. She had dark hair tied back in a ponytail, blue jeans, and a red hoodie, and was reading a book. She looked up from the book as I approached and she smiled. “Michael?” 

She was quite pretty, with a friendly smile – she wasn’t made up in any way but had a kind of natural, youthful beauty.

“Hi, yeah. It’s Mike. And you are…?”

“Carey,” she replied, and held her hand out to shake mine.

I reached my hand out to her and as I did she stood up, and up, and up. This girl was tall! She had to be 5’10 or so, significantly taller than me.

As she stood up, my hand went somewhat limp and she gripped it firmly and shook it; my hand felt small in her strong grip. Her smile didn’t break at all but I was somewhat speechless as I found myself craning my head to look up at her. My eyes were about level with her chest and I felt quite intimidated by this tall young woman.

“I’m your new babysitter. Nice to meet you!” 

“Um… yeah… hi.” I pulled my hand back and took a step back, still somewhat surprised by her size and my feeling of attraction to this tall woman.

We stood there in awkward silence for a second before she said, “Well, are you going to let me in?”

“Right, of course.” I replied, fumbling with my keys and opening the door. I walked in first and she followed.

I felt a little insecure standing in the hallway next to this very tall young woman. I looked at her feet to see if she were wearing heels or something but, no… she was just tall. She filled the space of the hallway so much and I felt very small in comparison. The two of us standing in this small space made me feel like a kid talking to an adult. 

I made conversation and asked, “What are you reading?”

“Lord of the Flies,” she replied.

“Oh, nice. Is that for your term paper?”

She looked away. “Oh no, just for fun. I like reading a lot. Do you read much?”

“Ummm, a little,” I lied. Truthfully I mostly played video games or watched TV but always thought I should do more reading, become a little more cultured. 

The reading conversation made me feel even more like a kid, talking to this cultured young woman so I made conversation to hide my nervousness: “I don’t really think I need a babysitter to be honest. I’m 15 and I’ll be 16 in a few months.” 

She didn’t reply but smiled at me as she walked into the living room. Carey looked around the house, taking in the photos of me and my mom on the wall, the knickknacks on the shelves, and the candles my mom liked to burn. 

It felt strange to see her in our home – my Mom was taller than me, but not by much, maybe a few inches. So I was used to seeing people my size, maybe a little taller, in our house and now I was struck by just how much bigger Carey was than either of us. Watching her handle our pictures and move through our space felt … weird.

She turned to me and said, “I know it might feel weird, but your mom just wants you to be safe. And maybe it’ll be good for you to have some company.”

Her voice was soothing and she had a way of speaking that was calming. She had this gentle way about her that made me feel at ease.

I had to be honest that her size did make me feel more weird but also secure… safer, even. Given my own small stature, I felt like she was there to ensure things were OK. She was quite pretty too and that didn’t hurt. I didn’t mind spending time with her.

“Okay, I guess I can see that,” I said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

“How old are you anyway?” I asked as I watched her holding a photo of my mom and I.

“Almost eighteen. I’ve been doing this for years,” she said quite casually.

“So we’re not that far apart in age?”

“I guess not,” she said with a shrug and then asked, “Want to watch some TV?”

“Sure!” I said. 

She smiled, sat down on the couch and patted the spot next to her. I sat down, feeling slightly uncomfortable with how close she was. Her body was much larger than mine – not just taller and longer but thicker too. But we found a show to watch and got into it. After a little bit we were comfortable and both laughing at the show together. 

“Want a snack?” she asked.

“Yes please.”

“What do you feel like?”

I thought about it, “Well there’s some chips. They’re above the fridge. Mom keeps them there so I can’t reach them,” 

She looked at me and smiled, “Well I can. I’ll grab them!” 

I thought to myself: this was going pretty well. I got to hang out with this cool, mature, pretty older girl and we were getting along quite well. 

I spied a look at her as she walked into the kitchen and admired her height and figure. She wasn’t particularly curvaceous but her height gave her a svelte, sleek look. 

As she walked into the kitchen, I noticed she dropped a few of her cards on the floor. A bank card, a library card, and some ID. I stood up and picked them up.

“Hey,” I called to her in the kitchen, “you dropped a couple…”

My voice trailed off as I held her ID in my hand. I looked at the card, her picture, her height, 5’11, her birthdate… it couldn’t be? How could it be? The license said she was born more than a year after me. 

She rushed back into the living room and said, “Give me those please” in a quick voice. I handed her the cards and looked at her. 

She knew that I knew.

“Your ID… you’re not… 17.”

She looked cross and somewhat embarrassed. “It’s… well…”

“How old are you?” I asked.

She crossed her arms over her chest and said, “You can do the math” and paused before admitting, “I’m 14.” 

Standing in there in front of her, my mind started to spin. 14?!? She was so … tall… so mature. I felt tiny standing next to her towering presence, like a child in front of an adult. But she… I stepped backwards and sat back down on the couch. She exhaled before joining me sitting down.

As she sat down next to me I shifted away from her.

I was stunned: “14!?!? What the hell?” I shouted. “You can’t babysit me!! You’re younger than me!”

“You need to get out of here!!”

The whole situation was looking completely different from what I’d imagined. This was crazy and embarrassing! She lied!

She looked at me calmly. “OK, I told your Mom that I was older than I am. But what’s the big deal? She was looking for a babysitter, she wants you to have a babysitter, I can do it. You’re having fun with me, aren’t you?”

My mind was racing, “But… no. I’m not being babysat by you!”

“Listen, Michael. I need this job.”

“I don’t care!” 

We sat in silence for a second. I felt bad that I snapped at her so I contritely said, “It’s not you, Carey. It’s humiliating. Being babysat by a younger girl? No.”

She looked at me, “Well, I need this job, Michael.”

“I don’t care. I have to tell my mom.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit childish?”

I looked at her with raised eyebrows? “Childish!?! You’re an actual child!”

“Technically, so are you.”

“Yes, but I’m not pretending to be older than I am.”

She was silent. I know I was being unfair and lashing out, but I was confused and hurt by the situation.

We were both sitting on the couch with about two feet between us. Neither of us moved but I was keeping my eyes off of her. This was worse than the situation in the hallway earlier today – I felt deeply embarrassed. It was as if the feelings of inadequacy had been crystallized: this younger girl was taller, more mature, more confident. Something about her presence was different now: her size was comforting but also strange and uncomfortable.

She sighed, “The way you’re acting… I think you do need a babysitter.” 

I looked down at the couch.

We sat there for a second in silence before she continued.

“It’s humiliating right? To be babysat by a younger girl?”

I replied quietly, “Yes, exactly.” 

She paused for a few seconds before she spoke again, this time with a different tone: “How would the kids at your school act if they knew?” There was something in her voice.

I looked up at her. “They’d taunt me. I’d never hear the end of it. It’s hard enough being so small.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly, “So you… don’t want me to tell them?”

I thought for a second. “No, obviously. We both don’t want people to know about this.”

She continued looking at me in silence. Waiting for me to catch up. There was a patient, knowing look on her face. Suddenly, I knew what she was thinking. 

“You wouldn’t,” I said.

She looked stern but spoke calmly, “I would. I told you I want this job. Probably about as much as you don’t want me to tell everyone that you’re being babysat by a younger girl.”

I was silent, contemplating my position. She had me cornered.

“Please… you can’t.”

“Imagine what they would say. You’re what… almost 16? I’m 14 but your mom put me in charge of you. You’d be the laughingstock of the school.” 

“No, don’t.”

“And look how easily you agreed to be put in my care. Why did your Mom hire me as your babysitter? Why did you accept me as the one in charge? Because I’m taller? More mature? More confident?”

She let the question hang before continuing, “Why did you accept it? Because you’re so small? Because you don’t have confidence? Because, maybe, deep down, you need someone to take care of you.”

I sat there silent. She was speaking to some deep part of me that had never been aired in public.

“I don’t want to tell anyone, Michael. But I will if I have to.” 

We sat in silence for a few seconds before she continued. 

“Of course, if you don’t want me to tell anyone, you know what to do.”

“What…?”

She reached over and put her hand over mine. It was larger and felt comforting.

“Let me babysit you. I need the money. You need a babysitter. If you agree not to tell your Mom my real age, I’ll agree not to tell the other kids that I babysit you.” 

I felt cornered, humiliated. She had me. Somehow, I was trapped by this younger girl into pretending she was older than me. It felt deeply humiliating but also … something else. I didn’t want to admit but it also felt… nice. To be taken care of. To have my power taken away. I was so confused and my emotions were so mixed: on the one hand, I knew this girl was younger than me, on the other hand, she had taken charge of the situation so easily that I felt oddly comforted in her control. I wanted to do what she said. 

“I.. I…” I thought of another possible answer, a way out.

“Michael. There’s no choice for you. Either you accept me as your babysitter or I tell everyone that your own mom wanted you to be babysat by a younger girl. That you’re still a little boy who needs to be taken care of. You don’t want that, do you?”

“No…” I said quietly.

“Think of what they’d say. Your size. How small you are even compared to a girl my age. You’ll never live it down.”

“I…I don’t want them to know.” I was on the verge of tears

“Good… then just accept the situation. Just accept that it’s going to be my way.” She squeezed my hand gently, comfortingly.

“And you know what? We’ll have fun. Weren’t we enjoying ourselves before, right? Let’s just do that and it won’t be a big deal. What do you say?”

I thought about it for a second. I didn’t have a choice, “OK.” My voice was wavering, I was so upset. My heart was racing.

She smiled at me and, sensing my fear, ran her hand along my cheek.

“Shhhh, it’s OK. Don’t be upset. That’s good, Michael.” 

It felt calming, reassuring.

She then smiled and me and patted my hand reassuringly and then reclined on the couch. 

“Can we agree that we can just keep having the fun we were having and not worry about ages?”

I paused and then replied, “Sure.”

“Great, Michael. Don’t worry. This is going to be fun. We can just hang out.”

We went back to watching our show but I felt a strange mix of emotions: I was intimidated by Carey, bowled over by her logic, but also comforted by her presence.

As we watched the show, I had a vision of the kids at school surrounding me, laughing at my height, my predicament, my humiliation, and a vision of Carey standing between them and me. Her arms crossed over her chest, me hiding behind her. The feeling of worry ebbed away as she held my small hand tightly in her larger one. I felt… protected. 

I looked at her and smiled, “OK Carey. Let’s do things your way.” 

“Great!” she said with a beaming smile. “Let’s get back to our show.”

We watched another episode, laughing at the jokes and enjoying the experience when she said she would heat up the dinner that was left. It was chicken, rice, and vegetables and smelled great. After a few minutes, she called out that it was dinner time. 

I came into the kitchen and sat at the table with her. I was surprised to see that she had removed her hoodie and was now wearing a t-shirt – I could see that she was quite thick in her upper body. Not fat all and not heavy but clearly quite strong. Definitely stronger than me.

My eyes lingered on her arms for a second before I sat down at the table and began eating. I devoured the chicken and the rice but left the vegetables. I was about to get up and leave when Carey said, “Oh no, eat everything.” 

“I don’t really eat vegetables,” I said, as I began to stand up.

“SIT DOWN” she said loudly and sternly. My heart jumped and I froze in shock.

She looked at me intensely. “You will eat your entire dinner.” 

Once again, she put her hand over mine. “Sweetie, did you ever think that maybe one of the reasons you haven’t grown is because you don’t eat your vegetables?”

I was silent.

“I got big and strong because I eat my vegetables. When I’m in charge, which I am, you’ll eat your vegetables too. Now, go ahead. Do what I say.” 

I looked down at the plate.

With a sigh, I picked up my fork and started pushing the vegetables around. They were steaming hot and I didn’t like the look of them but I knew I had no choice. She watched me closely, making sure I didn’t just push them around but actually took a bite. With a grimace, I put a carrot in my mouth and started chewing. It was crunchy but pretty good.

“See, that’s not so bad. Now please eat them all. That’s important.”

As she cleared the plates, she began explaining the rules for the night.. I knew that she had taken charge of the situation and that she was going to look after me.

Later, as I was doing my homework, I heard the door open and my mom come in. She walked into the hallway and slipped out of her heels as she came into the kitchen and smiled at Carey. The height difference between them was significant as my Mom only came up to about Carey’s shoulders. She looked up at the young girl and asked, “Well, how did it go?”

“Great,” said Carey with a smile. “Right, Michael?”

"It was good," I replied.

Carey spoke up before I could say anything else. "Your son and I had a wonderful time, Mrs. Thomas. We watched a bit of TV, had dinner, and now he's doing his homework."

I was about to speak when Carey chimed in again, "He even asked if I would be his babysitter this summer. I wouldn't mind." 

I looked up from my homework, surprised by her audacity. She didn’t acknowledge me, just looked at my Mom.

“Really?” my Mom said, with genuine surprise. “Is that right, Michael?”

I was shocked, looked at Carey whose expression told me that I needed to agree. 

“Uhhh.. yes. We had fun so why not,” I replied, trying to keep my voice calm, though inside I was feeling a whirlwind of emotions. 

Mom crossed her arms and thought about it before saying, “Well, to be honest, I thought Mike could start staying on his own once he hit 16 but…” she contemplated, “if you’re available Carey, and Mike, if you’d like to do that, then that works for me.” 

Carey replied and said, “I’d be happy to do it. Michael is great and I could help him with his adulting,” she then laughed and Mom joined in.

My Mom replied, “Sounds great then. OK, let’s do it.’

With that, Mom walked over to Carey, took out her wallet and starts to count out some cash. "Here you go," she says to Carey, "and thank you for agreeing to babysit Michael all summer. I really appreciate it."

My heart sank as she handed Carey the money. This was not what I had signed up for.

"Thank you, Mrs. Thomas," Carey said, taking the cash with a graceful nod. "It's no problem at all. I'm happy to help."

My mother then turned to me, "Isn't that great, Mike? Carey will be here every night I'm not."

I nodded, feeling trapped. My Mom then headed upstairs to get changed and Carey shouted, “I’ll be heading home now, Ms. Thomas.”

She looked at me and smiled, leaning against the counter, “It looks like we'll be spending the summer together Michael."

I whispered to her, “What the hell? This was supposed to be a one time thing.”

She replied, “Don’t get so upset. I want to make sure you're taken care of this summer. Besides… you don’t really have a choice.”

Charlie's Angels Part 4

The next day Alice was preparing breakfast for herself and Charlie and was dressed in a pink skirt and a small t-shirt that exposed some of his belly. His body was thin and smooth and he wanted to show it off to Charlie. He felt equal parts naughty and ashamed – he wanted to present himself to her in all of his weak, feminine, submission in the hopes that maybe she would take him again. He traced his fingers along the smooth contours of his hips, the flatness of his belly. He looked at his thin arms and weak wrists. He thought of last night, her powerful body slamming him fiercely into the bed, her strength, her dominance. He was melting inside and yearned for her to fuck him like that again. 

That morning he went into their storage and grabbed a whole pile of Charlie’s things from when she was younger. T-shirts, skirts, dresses all from around when she was 13 years old. He decided to try them on and, amazingly, they fit him. He felt ashamed and aroused – he was an adult, an 18 year old boy, but he was as big as his younger sister when she was 13. He tried on her old skirts, a short dress, a school girl outfit, a pink jogging suit… they all fit him perfectly. There were a few that were from the next year, when she turned 14 but those hung loosely. He realized it: that was when she had surpassed him. 

The thoughts of humiliation rang through his mind: he wasn’t a man, he was a sissy, he had been a man but allowed a younger girl to take his manhood, to strip him of his masculinity and take it for herself. Desire blended with humiliation and his mind raced back to the experience of when Charlie started to realize she was taller than her younger brother. He replayed the scenes in his mind and they came to him with an erotic charge: the slow drip of his submission to her, her gradual control, her seizing of power when she realized she could do anything to him, her transformation of him into her little girl, his willingness to wrap his small feminine body around her strong finger.

He was interrupted in his lust with the sound of Charlie entering the kitchen. She looked at him with a smile and said, “Good morning, sweetie. Are you cooking me breakfast? Good girl.” 

She was dressed in cut off shorts and a black tanktop and Alice was once again struck by her sheer size. Her biceps were large even when unflexed and her body had a taut strength to it: wiry and thick. As she turned towards the table, he followed the dancing muscles in her back. He yearned to kiss them, worship them, submit to her strength then and there.

As if she could sense his lingering desire she turned and said, “I can tell you want more of what I gave you last night.” She smiled with a wicked grin: “All slutty girls can’t get enough once they’re broken by their man.” 

“But first, feed me.” And she turned to the table and starting using her phone.

His heart was pounding, his nipples were hard. He felt like a submissive girlfriend, a girl to be ordered around, used, and ignored. He loved it.

He finished frying the eggs and bacon and brought them to her with a glass of orange juice. 

“Thanks, Alice.” 

“You’re welcome, Charlie.” 

She ate her breakfast before stretching her powerful body in front of him. 

“After last night, I have a bit of an idea.” 

Alex looked up at her, his heart racing. "What is it?"

“Well you’re fitting into the role of sweet little sister so well that I think I’d like to help you with that a bit more.”

She paused, before continuing: “Next year you should enrol in school as Alice.”

His head spun and his heart sank – she wanted him to go to school as a girl!?!? The humiliation would be unbearable. His eyes widened in horror. "What? No, Charlie. I’m done school. I’m going to college.. I can’t go as a girl?”

“Oh, I think you should do high school again, but this time as sweet little Alice. Starting in grade 9.”

He panicked… fantasy was one thing but this was something different. “Please, I can't do that. People will know! All of my friends… all the other kids"

She held up her hand and continued. “I’m not finished. You will enroll in school as Alice but I won’t put you with the other kids. I’ll enroll you as a new student, in grade 9. Sweet little Alice.”

His mind was racing – this was impossible. He would do high school… again? As a girl? Charlie couldn’t do this to him… could she? He muttered a weak, “Please…”

But Charlie's expression didn't falter. "If you want to live under my roof, if you want to be a good little sister, then you'll do it. It'll be good for you, it'll teach you how to be more feminine, more obedient. Plus, it'll be so much better for you this time around to do high school as a soft little girl, in your short skirt, with a bow in your hair.”

He was silent and completely bowled over. He looked up at her and tears were forming in his eyes. 

But she was unmovable, her eyes glinting with excitement at the thought of having him completely under her thumb.

Charlie felt a charge of arousal, this young man squirming in his seat, on the edge of crying as she toyed with his mind and his being. Maybe she really would do it…

"Imagine it," she said, leaning in close to him. "You'll wake up every morning and I'll inspect your outfit. You did such a good job choosing one today. Maybe another cute little skirt that shows off your legs, or a dress that makes your ass look so sweet and plump. Maybe a sexy pair of short heels or some Mary Jane’s?” She smiled a wicked smile, “I’ll expect you to dress your best before inspection from Daddy.” 

Her words painted a picture that made his stomach turn. He'd be a laughing stock, a freak, a boy in a dress, a target for every bully in school. He tried to protest, but she silenced him with a firm hand on his shoulder. She squeezed ever so gently and he felt the raw power of her grip.

"You'll learn to sit with your legs crossed, to keep your voice high and sweet, to giggle and blush at all the right moments. You’ll put your hair in a ponytail and stuff your bra. Maybe I’ll even get you on hormones to help you grow your own breasts.” She paused, to let the idea sink in.

“How big would you like your boobs to be? Are you going to have small Bs, maybe big DDs for the boys to stare at?”

“That’ll be the best part," she said with an evil smile, "… when the boys start to notice you. And they will. You'll come home and tell me all about it, won't you?"

“I---, I… please, Charlie.” He said with a whimper. A single tear had fallen down his cheek. This humiliation was too far. The worst part was his dick was hardening even as she described the situation. He pictured himself, her childlike plaything, dressing like a girl, his body transformed, the attention…

“Those boys will be younger than you, but so much stronger. You might even like it. Who knows what thoughts will enter into your girly head, fantasies of someone’s strong hands on your soft body.”

She looked at him carefully, “Maybe you’ve already had those thoughts. About being someone’s girlfriend?

Alex's cheeks burned at the words coming from his sister – his YOUNGER sister. Had she really once been smaller than him? Now we was entirely wrapped around her finger, completely broken and dominated by her. He looked at her through the blurring of his tears and felt like a child in front of an adult. He knew that was part of her plan, to break him down completely and rebuild him in her image.

"You'll have to sit through classes with the other girls, learning about makeup and fashion and how to be a proper lady," she continued, "And when the boys tease you, you'll just have to take it, because you're a girl now, and that's what girls do. You’ll take it and smile and you can pretend you don't care. But deep down, you'll love it, won't you?"

Her words were like a knife, cutting into him and exposing his deepest fears and darkest desires. The idea of being a girl, of being submissive and weak, spoke to some truth about who he really was. But to have it forced upon him, to have it be his reality, was something else entirely.

He had a vision of himself in a classroom, smaller than some of the 14 year olds, weaker than most of them, hiding his true self beneath an image of feminine weakness. Being molded by Charlie into an extreme vision of feminine submission, being her servant, being her puppet…

"But don't worry," she said, her hand moving from his shoulder to his cheek, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw. "I'll be there to protect you. I'll be the big strong Daddy looking out for her little girl. And when you get home, you'll serve me like a good girl."

Alex's cock twitched in his panties at the thought of her dominating him even more than she already did. The power exchange was palpable, and it was intoxicating. His breath was heavy and he felt like a small boat adrift in the ocean of her story.

"You'll have to be the perfect little girl for me, in every way. You'll do your homework, you'll clean the house, you’ll cook, you'll serve me dinner. A good wife in training.”

Alex's mind raced. What could be worse than going back to school as a girl? But the thought of her punishment, of being at the mercy of her strength and will, was even more terrifying. Somewhere from the fog of desire, he found a voice of resistance. He knew he had to find a way out of this. "Please, Charlie, I'll do anything," he begged, his voice high and desperate. “Please, don’t make me go to school as a girl.”

She eyed him coolly. Charlie was amazed at how easily he broke, how easily she reshaped him to her desires. She had never intended to make him attend school as a girl but now she realized, she could do it, if she really wanted to. She licked her lips with desire to dominate him further, “Anything?”

He nodded frantically. "Yes, anything."

“We’ll see about that. What if I told you I wanted to be that good little girl at home?”

“Yes, yes … no problem, Charlie?”

She paused for a second.

“What if I told you, you were to call me Daddy from now on.”

He replied eagerly, “Yes, Daddy! I’ll be a good girl!”

She smiled inwardly: the humiliation was delicious. “Say it in your feminine voice.”

He repeated it, in a soft, girly voice: “Yes, Daddy. I’ll be your good girl.”

She felt her nipples harden. Such submission. There was no man left in her big brother. He was a feminine plaything for her to mold.

“What if I told you I wanted you to … take hormones that would reduce your testosterone and increase your estrogen, that would grow little tits for you?”

He paused… this was… a lot.

“Is there a problem with that, Alice? Maybe you do need to go back through school as a girl.”

He caved to her demands and whispered, like a girl, “No, Daddy, no problem.”

She put her hand under his chin and pulled it up to her, “And you’d thank me for giving you nice new breasts and making you a sweet girl?”

His eyes watered with tears, “Yes, Daddy. I’d thank you for giving me nice new breasts. For making me your sweet girl.”

"Alright," she said, her smile turning predatory. "If you can prove to me that you can truly be a good little girl, then maybe I'll reconsider."

Alex's heart sank. "What do you mean?"

She was about to answer when there was a knock at the door. Who was it?!? What would they do when they saw him like this?

“Who is it?” he asked Charlie in a panicked whisper.

She calmly smiled and said, “Go up to your room and don’t come out until I tell you it’s OK. I’ll answer it.” 

Alex was relieved at Charlie’s confidence and her ability to take charge of the situation. Where he wanted to run and hide, she confronted the problem head on. Their respective positions were clear to him as they both stood up from the table at the same time. In their bare feet he didn’t reach her chin and she looked easily twice his width. Standing next to her he was dwarfed by her size but also went from his feelings of intense humiliation to feelings of protection and care. She was there to protect him from whoever was at the door. 

He scurried upstairs quietly and quickly and stood listening at the door of his bedroom. 

He heard Charlie speaking to someone, then laughing, then they moved into the hall. He recognized the voice… Charlene, the girl he had liked!

He could hear Charlene talking to Charlie, “I just thought I’d drop by and tell Alex I’m leaving this summer to go to college. We were partners in a couple of classes together.”

Charlie responded bluntly, “Yeah… I think you were maybe more than that?”

Charlene sounded shocked but surprised, “What? No! It wasn’t like that. He was just a nice guy.”

Charlie replied, “Are you sure? I think Alex liked you, to be honest.”

Charlene gave a little laugh, “Oh, I didn’t know. I mean, he’s nice but, well, he’s not really my type.”

Alice felt her stomach drop a little bit as he listened. He had hoped that there was a connection between he and Charlene, but now he knew he was just imagining it. There was a pause before Charlie replied, “Oh no? What’s your type?”

Charlene sounded a little flustered, “Um… I think maybe, I should go.”

Charlie replied even more forcefully, “Don’t be embarrassed. Everyone’s got a type.”

Alex could hear Charlene moving towards the door, “I dunno. You’re brother’s nice and all… don’t be offended but… I guess I like more manly guys. No offense, but your brother is a little small.” 

Charlie laughed, “None taken. He’s more than a little small.” She paused before saying, “You mean, you like guys with arms like this?”

Alex tiptoed to the top of the stairs to get a better view and he could see Charlie’s back. Charlene was concealed by Charlie’s bulk. Charlie had raised one arm and was flexing it. From behind he could see her bicep like a swollen baseball popping out of her arm and her back, thick with layers of muscle. 

He heard Charlene audibly inhale with surprise.

“Go ahead, feel it.” 

Charlene didn’t reply but Alex saw a feminine hand trying to wrap itself around the thick bicep. The thin, delicate fingers were rubbing the muscle with a lusty desire. 

Charlie pulled Charlene into an embrace and bore down on her with her lips, pressing her soft feminine body against her muscles. 

Alex heard a feminine moan come from Charlene. 

Alex watched, sweating with desire, as his sister pulled Charlene, the girl he had liked, into her grasp and kissed her heavily. He expected Charlene to pull away, to push this younger girl away and resist. 

Instead, he heard Charlene moan with lust, one soft hand still wrapped around his sister’s bicep and the other now snaked around her neck. Charlie moved her hands to Charlene’s ass and lifted her, Charlene’s legs wrapped around the muscular girl’s thick torso. Charlie began walking into the living room with the slim blonde coiled around her body. 

Charlene was dressed in a white dress and he could see her feminine, tanned legs wrapped around his sister. 

Alex watched with lust and humiliation as his powerful sister did what he never could. She had seduced this sexy young woman in absolutely no time while he cowered, watching in the darkness.

They walked right past him, neither seeing him as he stared down in shame and lust, ensconced in the feminine attire. Charlene had her thin, smooth legs wrapped around the powerful younger woman’s body. He watched as Charlie moved into the living room and lowered Charlene onto the couch and saw his sister stand in front of the willing girl. 

Charlene looked up at the young amazon with drunken, lustful eyes.

“Wait… I’m not sure,” said Charlene, “I don’t know…”

“Yes, you do,” said Charlie. She leaned down and kissed Charlene again, grabbing her breast and squeezing a nipple with her fingers. Charlene moaned with pleasure.

“Tell me you want me to stop,” said Charlie, “and I’ll stop.” She squeezed Charlene’s nipples again while pressing her muscular body down upon the girl. 

“Or tell me you want me to fuck you and make you cum right here.”

Charlene hesitated, revelling in the feeling of pleasure. She had never had lesbian desires but this woman… she was… incredible.

“Pleaseeee fuck meeeeee” she shouted. 

Alex’s hand had involuntarily wrapped itself around his stiff cock and he was pulling it with uncontrollable lust. He couldn’t see them any longer, but was listening as the boiling sounds of sex fuelled his imagination. 

And then he heard it: the sound of fabric tearing. Charlene's protests turned into a gasp of surprise and pleasure, and Alex's knees went weak. He knew what that sound meant: his sister had just ripped the shirt off Charlene’s body, exposing her to his sister's dominance. He grabbed his own nipples and pulled them as he masturbated. 

"Charlie, please!” Charlene's voice was strained, but Alex could hear the excitement in it. He knew that she wanted to be fucked by this young amazon.

“Please, what, Charlene? Please stop, or please fuck you…”

Charlene was silent except for a deep moan.

"You want it," Charlie whispered, her voice dark and seductive. "You know you do. You want to feel my muscles and my power fucking you, don’t you?”

Her words hit home, and Alex heard Charlene's breath hitch. "Yes," she whimpered

“Say it,” said Charlie

Charlene’s voice was barely audible. "Please, Charlie. Fuck me."

“Say it again,” said Charlie

“Please Charlie… fuck me!” Charlene shouted.

Alex's own breath caught in his throat as he heard the sound of his sister's biceps flexing, the muscles tightening under her skin like coils ready to spring. He imagined her powerful hands on Charlene, guiding her, dominating her. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Then there was the unmistakable sound of lips meeting flesh. Alex's mind was racing with images of his sister forcing Charlene to submit, making her kiss her biceps and thighs. He was so hard listening to what was happening just below him.

“If you want me to fuck you, you have to call me by my name.”

“Charrrrlieeee please fuck me” shouted Alex

“Call me Daddy. And I’ll fuck you.”

Charlene didn’t hesitate, “Please Daddy… fuck me, like a bad girl. You’re so strong daddy, please fuck me.”

He heard a buzzing noise, then the deep moans of Charlene… Charlie had a vibrator and was using it on her.

"Good girl," Charlie said, her voice thick with lust. 

Alex felt his cock throb in his panties, his body responding to the power play before his very ears. He was pumping his cock furiously to the sounds below him.

He had dreamed of having Charlene as his girlfriend, of losing his virginity to her. This girl who was sweet and sensitive and liked him. Now she was lying splayed out, under his sister’s muscular body, screaming that his younger sister was her Daddy. 

“Say my name if you want to cum Charlene.”

She almost screamed, “DADDY… please fuck me DADDY. You’re so strong. I’m your slut. Please Daddy… fuck me… I need it.” 

His cock was rock hard. As he listened: 

"Now, spread your legs," Charlie instructed. "Let Daddy in."

There was a brief pause, and then the sound of skin meeting skin. Alex's mind was reeling, his thoughts a chaotic mess of arousal and fear. He had to see.

He tiptoed down the stairs and looked on the scene in the living room. It was incredible.

Charlie had mounted Charlene’s face and was grinding her pussy against the smaller girls mouth. While doing it, she was bent over and sliding a vibrator in and out of Charlene’s tight pussy. Alex could see that Charlene’s pussy was shaved and bare whereas Charlie’s was thick with hair. 

The two women were a contrast: Charlene was sexy in a small, feminine way whereas Charlie’s body was knotted with muscle. Her thighs looked like pillars with muscles extending out as she rode the smaller girls face. 

Charlie's hand was between Charlene's thighs, moving the vibrator with powerful purpose. Alex watched in shame and lust, his eyes tracing the muscular power of the larger girl’s body as she bent the smaller, older girl to her will. 

Charlene led out a guttural moan as she lapped at the muscular girl’s clit.

Charlie didn’t need any further encouragement. With a feral growl, she plunged the vibrator into Charlene a rhythm that spoke of power and dominance. Charlene's eyes rolled back in her head, her body arching off the bed. Alex felt a strange kinship with her in that moment, both of them under Charlie's thrall.

The room was filled with the sounds of their lovemaking, the grunts and gasps that spoke of raw, primal need. Alex retreated to his room, scared of being seen by his sister, his hand sliding down to his cock, stroking it through the fabric of the dress. 

It was over in a few moments and Alex heard his sister orgasm with great ferocity. The sound of her orgasm was equal to her strength and he came, in his room, at the same time. From somewhere in her thunderous orgasm he also heard Charlene cum in sync with her amazon lover, screaming, “Yes Daddy” as Charlie brought her shuddering orgasm.

Ale lay on his bed, silent, panting and trembling, his hand still wrapped around his cock. He listened to the sounds on the floor beneath.

Charlie spoke first: “That was great. Thank you, Charlene…”

Charlene was tentative but said, “I don’t know what … I’ve never done that before.”

Charlie replied, “I know. It’s my power. You’re drawn to it.”

He heard Charlie pull Charlene into her embrace again and then a low moan. Charlie was surely kissing her. He heard their lips unlock.

“I want you to come around again before the summer is out. Daddy will fuck you again.”

Charlene replied after a second, “I… I don’t know.”

“I’m not asking, sweetie. Don’t make Daddy come and find you. And when you’re back from college, I’ll expect you to come and see Daddy. Understand?”

“Yes… Daddy.”

“Even if you have a boyfriend. You’ll always be Daddy’s girl.”

Incredibly, Alex’s cock was hardening again and he imagined Charlene was feeling something similar: the intense arousal of being overpowered by his amazonian sister. Lost again in the thrall of this fantasy come to live, he imagined himself in Charlene’s position, holding Charlie’s powerful bicep, looking up at her with soft, doe, eyes.

Charlene said even more softly, “Yes, Daddy.”

He heard them move towards the door and then he couldn’t hear them any more. After a few minutes he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Then the footsteps grew louder, and the door to his room creaked open. He looked up to see Charlie standing in the doorway, a knowing smile on her face. She was wearing the same tanktop and shorts as well as a cocky, knowing smile. She had a sheen of sweat and was flushed from the sex. In her hand, she held the vibrator that had just been inside Charlene.

"Well, well," she said, her voice filled with satisfaction. "Looks like you enjoyed the show."

Alex felt his own face flush, his cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. 

“I take it you heard all of that. I know that you saw some of it, she continued, her smile widening. “I heard your little steps coming down the stairs. You wanted to see didn’t you?”

She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, her eyes never leaving Alex's. She approached him and held out the vibrator, still slick with Charlene’s juices. "This needs to be cleaned up," she said. “Can you please clean it, Alice?”

Alex took the toy, his hands trembling. He couldn't believe that she was making him do this, but he also couldn't deny the thrill that shot through him at her words. He felt so small, so powerless, and it was intoxicating. He took the dildo in his hands --  it was thick and weighty -- and he carried it to the bathroom, his mind racing with thoughts of what had just happened.

In the mirror, he stared at himself in the dress and panties, feeling like a stranger. He'd never felt so feminine, so... owned. It was as if his sister had stripped away his identity, piece by piece, until all that was left was this quivering, obedient girl. He held the vibrator in his hand. It felt heavy and firm, unlike his own small dick which felt girlish in comparison. He placed it under the tap and ran the water, cleaning it with his hand. 

As he was doing so, Charlie entered the room, still coated in a layer of perspiration from the sex. Her muscles glinted in the light and she smiled as she made eye contact with her slave of a brother.

“You’re good at that,” she said, glancing down at the dildo. “Careful or maybe I’ll get ideas about using dildos on you.” She winked at him and then moved next to him, pressing her warm powerful body against his side.

“Remember when we used to brush our teeth here and then we learned that I was bigger than you. It seems so long ago but that was when it all started… Remember how you resisted for so long, but eventually decided that you’re a better little sister than a big brother. Remember?”

He looked up at her weakly, “Yes, Charlie.”

She flexed her muscle in the mirror. Her bicep was almost as big as his head now: she was becoming positively huge. "Look at us," she said, pointing to the mirror. "I really am the man of this household now. And you’re my little girl. You're just like Charlene now. Maybe you two can be sisters?” 

Alex looked at his reflection, the dress clinging to his body and the panties clearly visible underneath. He felt his cheeks burn as he held her dildo in his hands. He smiled at her with genuine warmth… she was his protector, his master. She smiled back, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "You know what, Alice?" she said, leaning in close to him. "I think you're starting to get it. You're starting to see that I'm the man of the house now."

Her hand reached out and grabbed his chin, turning his face to look directly at her. "Say it," she whispered. "Tell me how much bigger I am than you."

Alex's voice was shaky as he spoke the words she wanted to hear. "You're... you're bigger than me, Charlie. You're the man of the house."

“And look at how much bigger my cock is than yours?”

He looked at the dildo. It was true. “It’s true. Your cock is much bigger than my little clit.”

“Kiss it.”

His will was broken and he did as he was told, giving the dildo a gentle, worshipping kiss on the tip. It was a charged moment of submission and sexuality – he felt like he was kissing her cock.

“Wasn’t it good for me to fuck Charlene?"

He nodded, unable to find his voice.

"Say it," she demanded.

"It was good for you to... to fuck Charlene," he managed to murmur. "Because you're more of a man than I am."

Her smile grew wider, her eyes alight with power. "That's right," she said. "I'm the man here, and you're my little sister. And as long as you keep wearing my underwear and following my rules, I'll keep you safe. Even your little clit." She gestured at his crotch, her smile taunting.

The comparison was not lost on Alex. The dildo was a stark reminder of his newfound inferiority. His own cock felt so small, so insignificant next to the tool of dominance his sister had wielded over Charlene. He couldn't help but feel a strange mix of humiliation and arousal as he stood next to her.